


Compositions

by Bitmeddler



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Black Velvet Rabbits, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, Passionate and Fascinating Exchange of Letters, Pining, Pre-Canon, Secret Crush, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 77,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitmeddler/pseuds/Bitmeddler
Summary: Since his undergrad, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb has been attracted to the charismatic keyboardist ‘Doc’ of the Black Velvet Rabbits, an up-and-coming band whose members are known only to the public by their stage names. He is similarly drawn to his brilliant colleague and correspondent Dr. Newton Geiszler, whose name is all over the scientific community but not a single photo of him. Worlds collide when Hermann learns that BVR are playing a show in town and Dr. Geiszler finally reaches out to him for a long-awaited first meeting.Falling in love through compositions both penned and notated: a pre-canon, alternate take on Newt and Hermann’s tumultuous first meeting and subsequent assignment to the Hong Kong Shatterdome.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler & Hermann Gottlieb, Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 146
Kudos: 86





	1. Overture

_October 15, 2017, Berlin._

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb stood outside the music hall in the line-up that was starting to form around the block. As people began to amass, excitement buzzed in the chill air. The daylight was fading and street lights started to flicker on. 

It was the first live show he’d been to in a long time. Possibly not since before the kaiju attack on San Francisco just over four years ago. Everything had transformed irreparably that day, the economies of the world shifting and diverting resources into stopping the threat from the Breach. Yet entertainment industries had not ceased. Conversely they thrived, as humanity scrambled to grasp some semblance of normalcy; a lost reminder of the simpler world before. 

Looking behind at the line up of chattering concert-goers, Hermann felt like he was in pre-2013 Berlin. He could almost imagine for a moment that the world was the way it had been. 

When he’d joined the Jaeger Academy two years ago, he’d been immediately triaged to the Science Division and had led the programming team in the Mark-1 development coding. After the completion of the first phase of the project, he’d begun to work on the conceptualization of predictive models in an attempt to learn more about the Breach. There were not many other scientists doing this particular type of research and he was among an elite few scrambling to bring the world back from the brink of disaster. The responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders.

But tonight he’d try to put all that aside and let the excitement of the evening take over. 

Tonight, he was finally going to see the Black Velvet Rabbits live. 

The ‘Gymnasium’, as the venue was known, was not huge by any stretch of the imagination. Hermann knew the band had sold out larger locales in the past, but he was pleased to see them in a slightly more intimate setting, even if it meant that he would have to endure an all-ages show. The crowd milling about outside was an eclectic group; a mix of a younger, alternative crowd and a more mature and well-dressed mid-career crowd, including a few suits who had likely come straight from the office. 

The Black Velvet Rabbits had released their debut album in 2009 when Hermann was in his first year of university. They were well-received by critics, quickly developed a devoted fan-base and toured frequently until going on hiatus in 2016. This was their first gig since then. 

Finally the doors opened and the crowd poured into the venue, a line-up quickly forming at the merch booth. No alcohol was being sold at the event, but Hermann had no intention to drink tonight. He had an important meeting tomorrow and wanted to be as alert as possible. He ordered himself a seltzer water and took a seat at the bar to rest his leg as much as he could before the main act.

The house lights dimmed as the opening band ‘Impromptu Blue’ took their places on stage. Predictably, each member of the band had dyed blue hair and more facial piercings between them than Hermann cared to count. But as they started to play, he could see why this band was opening for the Black Velvet Rabbits. Their sound was reminiscent, but not as refined as the improbable but seamless fusion between classical piano and hard rock that BVR had perfected. 

The members of the Black Velvet Rabbits never let any of their personal information be known to the public. Their real names were not in any publication that Hermann had ever seen, and they were only known by their monikers. The Rabbits had a dedicated fan following and the band member’s identities were the subject of abundant online speculation. Hermann could appreciate the desire for a concrete demarcation between the personal and the private, especially when it came to semi-celebrity status. Not to mention that BVR fans tended towards the die-hard variety.

Hermann had missed them the last time they’d played a show in Berlin. Or, more accurately, he hadn’t yet heard of them.

His college flatmate Nolan had come home decked out in a band t-shirt and an armful of posters, jittering with excitement from one of the band’s first live shows as they were starting to pick up steam.

“Good concert, then?” Hermann had asked Nolan casually, intending for the statement to be more of a pleasantry than a conversation starter. He had been completely unprepared for the unabashed outpouring of fan fervor that followed. 

“So good! Bro, they were epic!” Nolan gushed. “I actually really think you would like them.” 

Hermann braced himself for the rapid deluge he knew was imminent as Nolan unrolled one of his posters.

“This guy here is the keyboardist...” He pointed to a man standing in the center of the photograph wearing tight black-and-white pinstripe skinny jeans and a black top, donning a clunky leather bracer that went half-way up his forearm, giving way to slim but well-toned biceps. He had messy, short dark hair, thick Buddy Holly glasses and, as far as Hermann could tell from the less-than-crisp print quality, expressive green eyes. 

His mind wandered back to Nolan’s happy outpouring clearly having missed the continuation.

“So sorry, what was that?” Hermann asked. 

“You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?” Nolan grinned suggestively. “What, were you distracted by the hot blonde drummer?” 

Hermann was only out to a few close friends and his sister Karla, who had been so supportive when he had told her that she’d sent him a rainbow pride bracelet. He had no intention of ever wearing it but had appreciated the sentiment immensely. He slipped easily into his well-trained reflex of encouraging the assumption that everyone seemed to make; that he was straight but just a bit prudish. 

“Well, she _is_ rather fetching,” he ventured. 

Nolan chuckled, running his hand through his flame-colored dyed red hair. “You’re the only person in the universe who calls a chick like that, ‘rather fetching’, you know that, right?”

He snickered again before continuing, “Anyway, I was _saying._ The short guy here plays the keyboard. I think he’s like, classically trained or something, he’s super good. He and this guy here share vocals.”

Nolan pointed next to a tall, classically handsome, clean-shaven man with short dark blond hair and a slight 80s glam rock influence. “He’s the other singer and lead guitar.”

He pointed to the final member, a man with short, dark hair wearing a t-shirt with the arms ripped off and a snake-like dragon tattoo on his forearm. “And this guy’s the bassist.” 

Hermann’s eyes went back to the keyboardist. The way the rest of the band was positioned around him in the poster made it clear that he was the lead. _Interesting._

“Their front-man is a classically trained pianist?” he asked with a hint of skepticism. 

“Yup! That’s right up your alley, no? I always hear you listening to piano music when you’re studying, so I figured you might like these guys. That’s, like, the whole reason I’m telling you about them.” 

“Yes, Nolan, I’m sure this conversation is _entirely_ for my benefit,” Hermann smiled with a hint of amicable condescension.

“You know what I mean!” Nolan dismissed. “They’re maybe a little heavy for you, but I still think you should give them a shot. For the piano parts and stuff.”

He reached into his bag and took out a CD with a highly stylized picture of a rabbit with Xs for eyes and an abstract logo. “I picked up their album at the show. I haven’t even cracked it open yet, plastic’s still on and everything. You can borrow it if you want.” 

Hermann considered this. Normally he would have accepted the offer, waited the prescribed amount of time, listened to twenty seconds of each song (in case anyone asked his opinion he wouldn’t be at a complete loss) and politely passed the CD back. But he had to admit that he was a little curious. 

"I... would appreciate that,” Hermann said, taking the CD. 

That night in his room he listened to the entire album. Nolan was right; the style was a bit heavier than he usually went for but he enjoyed the fullness of the sound and the classically inspired piano chord progressions. He knew his flatmate’s primary motivation was to have someone to converse about the band with, but privately he appreciated the recommendation. Thinking back on it, this was the first time anyone had ever suggested a music group to him. Usually people assumed Hermann only listened to classical, which he supposed was not the worst impression to give, but certainly failed to cover the wide spectrum of his musical interest.

Hermann flipped through the insert booklet until he came to the band member profiles. They gave only limited information, but contained head-shots of all of the musicians with their instruments and pseudonyms. He stopped on the page featuring the keyboardist. Yes, his eyes were definitely green. 

In the poster Nolan had shown him, the band members were all wearing somewhat serious expressions. But in this head-shot the keyboardist had a slightly lop-sided, boyish grin and Hermann found himself unwittingly smiling back at the photo.

He glanced at the name below in the caption. 

“Doc.” 

*** 

The stage went completely dark as Hermann slid off the bar stool to make his way closer to the front. A few scattered _wooos_ and _yeahs_ punctuated the silence. As Hermann’s eyes began to adjust, the first notes reverberated through the hall and washed over the eager crowd. He knew the song immediately from the initial three chords. He’d listened to it countless times and the intro piano solo sent a chill through him every time he heard it.

The spotlight gradually lit up a solitary man on stage standing above an elaborate keyboard and looking down, clad in his signature leather jacket. Hermann felt his heart clench tightly in his chest and a small surge of adrenaline flowed through him. He was seeing Doc in person for the first time. 

Doc’s hands rapidly danced along the entire length of the keyboard and the full, powerful sound echoed through the venue. A few people cheered but the majority of the crowd held in a collective, unconscious breath. 

Doc leaned his head forward and began to sing into the microphone positioned above and to the right of his keyboard, bathed in a blue light that made him look almost ethereal. He had a startling vocal range with a powerful falsetto he made look effortless. 

The short solo intro was over too soon and the last note was punctuated by the telltale wooden clacking of colliding drumsticks counting off _one, two, three, four_ and the stage flashed in a burst of white light and rapid guitar riffs as the rest of the band were illuminated from behind. The crowd erupted into a torrent of cheers and began to move in erratic and energetic waves, surging to the rhythm. 

The band’s chemistry and energy were electric from the outset. Doc and the charismatic lead guitarist harmonized perfectly; the guitarist’s lower baritone contrasting perfectly with the keyboardist’s scratchy tenor. 

Hermann noticed that Doc frequently bounced with enthusiasm while on vocals, closing his eyes tightly on the higher notes. During the more complex piano arrangements, he bit his bottom lip in concentration before looking up at the crowd and grinning widely. When he wasn’t playing or singing, he was dancing at his keyboard. He didn’t stop moving the entire concert and Hermann barely even glanced at any of the other band members, grateful he had come alone so he neither had to explain his singularly focused gaze nor make pleasantries between songs. 

The Black Velvet Rabbits played expertly to the crowd who clapped and sang along when prompted by the tattooed bassist.

Their high-energy output had them visibly perspiring by the fourth song. Doc shrugged off his leather jacket, much to the delight of a group of punky and pierced twenty-somethings who were standing next to Hermann. They squealed audibly and Doc looked up in the direction of the group, half laughing and winked. A girl wearing black rabbit ears turned and looked at Hermann with an excited expression, mouthing “yeah” and giving a quick and comical double thumbs-up. 

Hermann chuckled and resumed watching the dark leather glide off Doc’s lean arms. His nails were painted and he was wearing a tight black tank top underneath with his signature leather bracer that covered most of his forearm, although Hermann noticed a half sleeve tattoo snaking out the top of it. That was new. He couldn’t quite make out the full design, only that it was brightly colored, finishing in highly stylized wave-like spirals at the elbow. Tattoos were not his usual taste, but he found himself wondering if Doc had any other ink elsewhere on his body and flushed intensely at the thought. 

They played a few newer songs before cycling back to the opening song on their debut album, the first song Hermann had ever heard. He thought back to the morning after Nolan had lent him the CD.

His flatmate had sat at the breakfast table destroying a box of Count Chocula. They had been sharing the apartment for a semester at that point and Hermann had (mostly) gotten used to Nolan’s ability to pick up a mental thread from the following day and continue it without skipping a beat.

“So? What did you think?” Nolan asked with a mouth full of cereal. 

“Good morning to you too,” Hermann rolled his eyes but there was no malice behind the gesture. He started getting breakfast ready for himself. “And yes, I really did quite enjoy them.” 

“Nice!” Nolan said with a knowing nod. “ I totally called it.” 

“So, um...” Hermann tried to sound as casual as possible. “Why do you suppose the keyboardist is called ‘Doc’?” 

Nolan took a huge gulp of orange juice and chased it with an even bigger swig of coffee. “That’s the thing, bro. No one knows what their nicknames mean. But obviously there are whole forums dedicated to it online. There’s a theory that he’s actually in med school or something.” 

Hermann sat down at the tiny table with his toast and tomato slices. Nolan gave him an amused look. “I don’t know how you eat tomatoes before noon.” 

“I don’t know how you eat that... sugar rubbish at _any_ time of day,” Hermann retorted as he gestured vaguely at the colorful box. 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it and I _know_ you haven’t,” Nolan smirked. “So, what’s your class schedule like today?” 

“Advanced Calculus and Linear Algebra but not until later. And you?” 

“Uh, Intro to Cult Film,” Nolan put his chin in his hand and leveled his best attempt at a deadly serious stare at Hermann, one playfully cocked eyebrow somewhat ruining the intended effect. “Doesn’t it freak you out how you and I are basically the same person?” 

“To be clear, I would outright refuse to share a flat with anyone in the same department as me,” Hermann shuddered. “I’d never have any professional distance.”

“Fair enough,” Nolan laughed as he glanced at his cell phone. “Whoops, I gotta run.” He shoveled the rest of the chocolate-turned-milk-and-gunk into his mouth, laced up his ratty sneakers and was out the door minutes later. 

Hermann made himself a second cup of tea and settled into the paper he was writing. He was lost in his research for hours when his cell phone vibrated next to him on his makeshift desk. 

14:40pm [Nolan] @Rock shop downtown, magazine with BVR photo feature. U want copy? 

Well, why not? Hermann had tended from childhood towards single-mindedness and his life’s focus since showing aptitude for mathematics had been almost entirely academic. He was on a full scholarship and wasn’t about to lose sight of that but it didn’t hurt to have a little distraction from time to time. And truly he appreciated the effort Nolan was putting into their new shared interest. He didn’t have a large number of friends and didn't want to ruin the potential of having at least one thing in common with his flatmate. 

14:42pm [Hermann] Yes, thank you. 

When Hermann got back from class that evening, a copy of the magazine was on the kitchen table. 

Nolan was sitting on the ratty couch he’d bought from the previous tenant. “Page 15,” he called out. 

Hermann opened to page 15. He shook his head. Of course. It was the tall, thin blonde drummer wearing a dress elaborately decorated with feathers. Nolan grinned at Hermann wiggling his eyebrows comically. “Am I right?” 

“Nolan, you are ridiculous. I’ll have a better look at it later but unfortunately my paper isn’t going to write itself.” 

Hermann retreated to the privacy of his room and after putting another solid hour into his research and getting ready for bed, he clicked on his bedside lamp and took up the magazine, quickly locating the photo page featuring Doc. 

He was leaning on a graffiti covered wall in tight leather pants, thumbs threaded through the belt loops and a tight black V-neck t-shirt. He was staring right at the camera, his chin tilted up slightly, peering through his thick-framed glasses and grinning. Hermann noticed for the first time the light dusting of freckles on Doc’s face. They were ludicrously endearing. 

Even into his late teens, Hermann had been too embarrassed to purchase any kind of erotic magazine. The mortifying experience of buying one in a store was disincentive enough but on top of that, much of the content was graphic beyond his tastes. A handful of times he’d tried searching the internet but the cacophonous barrage of pop-ups that ensued were enough to kill his desire and willingness to brave the onslaught again.

But the image of Doc was perfect; like a well-worn path, the man’s lopsided grin and slim body reclining against the paint splashed wall quickly became synonymous with arousal and Hermann easily slipped again and again into the comfort and familiarity of his fantasy. The repetition did not make it any less appealing or suggestive. Frequently he would revise his imaginings slightly, painting a different scenario, making slight adjustments and alterations until it was tailor-made to whatever he wanted it to be. Sometimes it was a quick and dirty back alley encounter as Hermann lowered himself down onto the ground taking Doc into his mouth. Other times the graffiti wall became the pattern of a bedspread as he lay the smaller man down beneath him, sometimes gently and sensually, peppering his body with light kisses. Sometimes throwing him roughly to the bed, pinning his wrist with one hand and gripping the man’s disheveled hair with the other as Doc chanted Hermann’s name over and over like a mantra. 

Even when he did find other images to strike his fancy, his mind often skip-stepped back to this one as he went over the edge. 

*** 

After the Black Velvet Rabbits finished their set and two encores, the drummer announced that the band would stick around after the show to meet with fans and sign autographs. Doc took a quick little bow and waved enthusiastically out to the audience as the band exited the stage. The crowd buzzed with energy, even as the house lights went up. Some folks got their coats and left but most hung around for the chance to meet the band. 

A few venue staffers joined by the bassist set up a wobbly bar table and the musicians emerged from a side door shortly after and assembled themselves behind it. Hermann had hesitated initially on whether or not to bring _the_ magazine with him for an autograph, in case something should happen to it. In the end, he’d decided it was worth the risk and had packed it carefully into his messenger bag.

A line-up quickly formed in front of the table and Hermann joined it, clutching the magazine to his chest as the line crept forward. Luckily the queue for an autograph from Doc was on the leftmost side of the band’s booth and Hermann was able to occasionally lean against the wall and take the weight off his leg somewhat. He’d insisted on not bringing his cane tonight and luckily his leg had cooperated with him. 

He noted that most people in the lineup had postcards, posters and stickers from the merch booth. He felt a twinge of superiority to have something more authentic which distinguished him from other fans; a relic of the band’s starting years. 

He recognized the fans in front of him in line as the girls who had cat-called Doc when he took his jacket off. Clearly, they were selling black rabbit ears at the venue given that the entire group were now all wearing a pair. But the girl who’d shared a little moment with Hermann earlier donned a set that was definitely homemade, decorated with metal studs and made of actual black velvet. Hermann momentarily felt absurd standing in line with them. Sometimes the juvenility of what felt like an adolescent infatuation weighed heavily on his ego.

As his turn approached, he found himself feeling intensely nervous. But his internal mental berating was short-lived as Doc waved good-bye to the girls with a smile and then turned his full attention to Hermann. Their eyes locked and Hermann swallowed thickly.

Doc had his leather jacket back on. His hair was stuck up in all directions and the remnants of an attractive flush still lingered on his face and collarbone from the exertion of the performance and the hot stage lights. 

“Hey man!” he grinned widely. “Thanks for coming to the show.” 

Hermann took a step forward and managed to steady his voice. “It was a marvelous performance.” 

“Glad you enjoyed it. First time at one of our gigs?” Doc asked casually. Despite the significant line behind Hermann, he did not sense any hurriedness in the man’s demeanor at all.

“Yes, although, I’ve been an avid listener since your debut album.”

“Oh hey, that’s awesome! Well, thanks for sticking with us.” Doc held Hermann’s gaze with his and leveled a genuine smile at him.

“I was hoping to request your...” Hermann stalled and took a breath. “I’d love to get your, um, signature.” He couldn’t bring himself to use the word ‘autograph’ as he slid the magazine across the table. 

Doc’s eyes immediately lit up and his jaw dropped in an almost cartoonish fashion. 

“No way...” he looked up at Hermann. “I seriously thought the only people on the planet who had a copy of this were my parents! And they probably only got it to make me feel better.” He laughed lightly at his self-derisive comment. “But seriously, this is so damn _cool!"_

He excitedly tapped the bassist on the shoulder, proudly showing him the magazine. “Hey, when was the last time you saw a copy of _this_?” 

“Oh hey, that’s wicked,” his bandmate said enthusiastically. “They did a really limited run of those! I’ve still got the sweet duster I wore.” 

The bassist turned to the drummer and playfully nudged her side, “Hey, remember that photo shoot? The one where you were dressed like a bird?” 

“Shut up, that dress was amazing!” she shot back at him. 

Doc turned back to Hermann. “You’ve seriously made my night, man.” His smile was wide and sincere. “So, uh... where would you like me to sign?” 

Hermann flipped to the page featuring Doc’s photo. 

“Oh my god, that’s so awesome. That was one of our first magazine shoots. I was so nervous!” He looked fondly at the image before shaking his head and uncapped his marker. “This backdrop here is in one of my favorite neighborhoods in town!”

Without thinking, Hermann flipped into German. “ _You know the city well?”_

Not missing a beat, Doc responded in flawless German. “ _Oh yeah, this is my hometown!”_

“ _Y-you’re from here?”_

 _“Yup, I grew up here in Berlin before my folks shipped me off to school in the U.S. Whereabouts are you-”_

The drummer cleared her throat and quickly flicked her eyes to the line of people behind Hermann as the bassist nudged Doc lightly below the table, who shoved him back and rolled his eyes at both his bandmates slightly before smiling up at Hermann again and signing _ <3 Doc_

Hermann wondered absently if he always signed with a heart before scooping the magazine up and thanking Doc before turning to walk away. He would berate himself later for his spike in heart rate, but for now, he just let himself enjoy the moment.

He was starting to make his way back out to the street when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text message from his boyfriend Lukas.

12:17am [Lukas] Hi love. Hope you’re having fun. Don’t forget, you’ve got that important meeting tomorrow. Let me know when you’re coming home.

Hermann certainly hadn’t forgotten. He checked his email again, and re-read for the hundredth time the message he’d received from his colleague saying that he was going to be in town for a week and asking Hermann if he wanted to finally meet in person after three years of correspondence. The timing of the concert and the rendezvous was slightly unfortunate, but he knew his adrenaline would carry him through both. Hermann wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to finally meet his colleague in person.

Hermann hopped into a cab to take him home and smiled to himself.

Tomorrow he would finally meet Dr. Newton Geiszler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr (Bitmeddler)!
> 
> If you’ve read this far then thank you, I hope you’ve enjoyed chapter one! This will definitely become a multi-chapter story spanning Newt and Hermann’s pre-canon years.
> 
> The rating will be upgraded to Explicit as the story progresses. Please note that there are mentions of romantic relationships with original male characters, but nothing sexual in detail and Newt/Hermann is absolutely endgame.
> 
> I tried to incorporate as much as possible about what we know regarding Newton’s musical talents from the novelization and the DVD extras (except for the whole “Newt is a terrible singer” thing, which I wholeheartedly reject).
> 
> I searched quite a lot for a band that I thought would capture the Black Velvet Rabbits’ sound. They had to be upbeat, a bit heavy, lots of keyboard but conceivably also within the scope of how I imagine Hermann’s musical taste. The band “Ideamen” checks all of those boxes. I imagine this to be the song that ‘Doc’ plays at the start of the concert (but with a longer keyboard intro): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrBHzJGTa1Y  
> These two songs also capture my BVR headcanon sound: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB-Rwm2IQVg and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZwVv1HaScM


	2. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann’s seminal first meeting with Dr. Newton Geiszler derails after a case of mistaken identity. Unable to cope with his newfound knowledge, Hermann leaves the meeting shortly after it begins, damaging his professional and personal relationship with Newt.

The night before the Black Velvet Rabbits concert, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb sat in his home office assiduously studying the content of a large stack of Dr. Geiszler’s letters in anticipation of their first meeting. It would not do if his colleague made reference back to something he’d written prior and Hermann was unable to grasp the thread. No, he had to prepare. 

Hermann had received his first correspondence from Dr. Newton Geiszler shortly after the K-day attack. He'd been surprised at first; he’d of course heard the man’s name before as a rising star in the rapidly emerging field of Xenobiology, but the direct contact had been unexpected. He had read through the hand-written letter five times in one sitting, feeling a growing excitement build. 

Since the kaiju had surfaced, the number of bogus pseudoscience theories was as staggering as it was appalling. In order to fill the void of data, studies were being rushed out without any semblance of due process or peer review. In a veritable sea of works in this new discipline, Dr. Geiszler’s content was a cut above the writings of even the most respected scientists.

They had been corresponding for three years when Dr. Geiszler had announced that he would be 'in the neighborhood' and invited Hermann to get together with him in person. They had planned to meet in two days' time.

The hours melted away into the night until shortly after midnight, his boyfriend Lukas popped into the office to check up on him.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m quite done yet. Were you waiting up for me?” Hermann asked apologetically. 

Lukas crossed the room and draped an arm around Hermann’s shoulders. “Well, I _was._ But it’s okay, I know this is important to you. Just don’t forget you’ve got that show tomorrow night too.” 

Hermann chuckled at the reminder.

Lukas rolled his eyes affectionately. “Obviously you weren’t going to forget seeing your favorite band live for the first time. I’m just saying. Don’t wear yourself out, okay?”

“Nonsense,” Hermann stated. “Before the concert tomorrow, I’ll take a... what is it you call it? A disco nap.”

Lukas laughed softly. “Good plan.” He pecked Hermann on the cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

Hermann had met Lukas while completing his Doctorate at Technische Universität Berlin. 

After much encouragement-turned-pressure from his little sister Karla on one of their weekly Skype dates, he had decided to go to a LGBTQ campus event. She had chided him mercilessly over what she referred to as his ‘perpetual celibacy’ and had been reasonably persuasive in her direct (if not slightly crude) reasoning.

“Hermann, I’m not telling you to go out and be a man-whore or anything,” she chastised him. “But you’re in _college._ If you don’t get some mileage now, then _when?”_

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re not telling me to be a _man-whore_ ,” Hermann said, incredulously repeating her absurd and somewhat offensive turn of phrase. "Good _lord,_ Karla.” 

“HERMANN! Stop being so... so, _you!”_ she half yelled at her brother. “Just give it a chance. Anyway, don’t you think it’ll be more fun than your faculty mixers? I mean, _no one_ wants to go to a math party!” 

Hermann snorted and shot back, “I don’t care for your contemptuous comments against my department and chosen field... ” he smiled at her fondly before adding. “But you’re not wrong. Those mixers are dreadful.” 

He had half decided to go because she had a point and half to put an end to her constant pestering. But either way he had gone and wound up exchanging numbers with an attractive economics major. It hadn’t gone beyond a few meetings and some 'mileage' as Karla had not so subtly put it, but he had at least begun to branch out and date a bit.

After a series of encounters of varying success, he was introduced through a mutual friend to Lukas, a tall, blond literature doctoral candidate with a short, clean-cut hair style and expressive brown eyes. A few dates led to a relationship and six months to the day of their first meeting, Hermann had moved his things into Lukas’ apartment much to Nolan’s dismay who’d insisted he’d never find another roommate as awesome as Hermann.

***

Hermann picked up the stack and rifled through the letters again and again, deciding to concentrate on the most recent ones. 

Dr. Geiszler was a potent writer. His thoughts jumped from one concept to another at times, but it was not hard to follow his leaps of logic if you were used to it. It was the exact opposite of his published work which was systematic and sequenced. His early letters had started out that way as well but there was something more personal about the slightly erratic writing style he’d eventually adopted, as if he was showing Hermann an unedited, raw piece of his mind. There was an elegance in the methodical way he wrote his articles, but the almost stream of consciousness approach he had taken up within the last year or so of their correspondence showed an even deeper intellect and unbridled brilliance. With every letter Hermann’s admiration for his colleague deepened.

He too had begun to moderate his writings less and less. In the earliest days, he had typed his correspondence out onto his laptop, editing and re-editing it to meticulous perfection before transferring it into a penned letter in tidy cursive. The rare times he made a mistake in his transcription, he would toss out the paper and start again on a new sheet. But within the first year he had abandoned this exhaustive process and his laptop. 

Trained by years of programming, his fingers flew across the keyboard without having to look at their motions. However he found that penning the letter from the beginning forced him to slow his thoughts and relish the words as they spilled forth. It felt so much more genuine to write this way. More intimate. His endless pursuit of perfection eventually subsided as much as his personality would allow. Sometimes he surprised himself with the way thoughts and concepts poured out of him in an organic sequence, the way the penned word altered his conceptualization, the analog method lending itself to enhanced clarity and his theories surged onto the page unconstrained. Perhaps he’d have to invest in a blackboard for his office. 

Their correspondence felt like a separate world, divorced from everything and everyone else. A private union of theory and construct where axioms were devised, built, destroyed, honed, rebuilt and elevated.

With time, he began to harbor the occasional fragment of shame every time he caught himself slowly circling the pages of Dr. Geiszler’s letters with his thumb. The way his breath would hitch when his colleague plunged into a magnificent tangent or a cerebral rant. Occasionally he would close his eyes and allow the paper to brush against his lips, first on the smooth side, then flipping the sheet around to the back, where the ridges of the pen-pressed indentations grazed his skin like a secret code. 

Perhaps his shame had become more than a fragment. 

From the beginning of their relationship, Lukas had respected Hermann’s private nature and had always allowed his partner to pursue his work, never complaining about the long and erratic hours. It was something about their shared life that Hermann appreciated immensely. Lukas never made fun of him or berated him for his poorly suppressed excitement when the mail slot in their apartment door opened or his ire when the stack contained only bills. 

Every time Hermann received a letter from Dr. Geiszler, he would proceed immediately to his study and take up his letter opener to avoid damaging the paper in any way. Lukas would follow him in and ask with a gentle smirk. “Another letter from your science boyfriend?” 

Each time Hermann would sputter and deny the playful accusation indignantly. Lukas would just nod, conceding warmly, “I know, I know, he had you first. You’d been pen pals for years before you and I ever met.” 

“We are not _pen-pals,"_ Hermann would retort each time. “We are colleagues who correspond.” 

At 3:00am Hermann finally clicked off the light in his office and after a bout of pacing the room, partially to stretch out his cramping leg and partially to have an outlet for his nervous energy, he slipped as quietly as possible into the bedroom, gingerly got under the covers and mentally rehearsed his first meeting with Dr. Geiszler a hundred different ways.

*** 

As Hermann walked into the coffee shop they’d decided upon, he was glad he’d made a reservation; the café was bustling. It was one of the few coffee houses in town where you could make a booking, appealing to a younger business crowd.

Hermann glanced around the room. There were a number of sharp-dressed, twenty to thirty something men sitting alone at various tables and Hermann subtly sized each of them up wondering if any of them could be Dr. Geiszler. Not likely considering he was here half an hour early.

As much as he’d been a bit anxious about the Black Velvet Rabbits concert, it didn’t compare to the cold twist of nervousness he felt in the pit of his stomach now. He’d arrived in the neighborhood an hour early and had paced around within a three-block radius until finally deciding to enter the shop well before the meeting time.

He approached the counter. “Gottlieb, party of two.” 

The barista raised an eyebrow and checked a coffee-stained clipboard, scrunched her nose and adjusted her bandana. “Uh, you’re kind of early, but I’ll see what I can do. Can I get something started for you?” 

“A regular London Fog, please.” He usually avoided such indulgences, but figured the bergamot and vanilla would calm his nerves somewhat. “And um, I don’t suppose the person I’m meeting is already here?” 

The barista shot him a look. “Uh, no.” 

Hermann waited at the counter for his drink and the barista gestured to a small but comfortable and quiet table in the corner, as he’d requested. 

He sat and got settled, his back to the wall, facing the door and tried not to watch the minutes tick away slowly. 

He’d attempted unsuccessfully on numerous occasions to track down a picture of Dr. Geiszler. Throughout their three-year correspondence, he’d read everything his colleague published and a small part of him always hoped in vain to see an author photo. The matter of whether or not to include a photograph was largely a question of personal choice, so the consistent absence was not unusual in and of itself. However, even when Dr. Geiszler attended conferences, he would frequently be the only invitee listed without a picture. Hermann supposed the man must be quite private which he could appreciate and had therefore never asked for a photo and had never offered the same in return. Although their correspondence did veer into the personal realm more and more often as of late, this had seemed like a step beyond the boundary.

He knew that Dr. Geiszler was quite young for the breadth of his education and experience. He speculated that perhaps the man preferred to keep his image obscure to avoid drawing attention to his youth, which could impugn his credibility in the eyes of some academics. At any rate, it was of no consequence. No matter how the man looked it could not detract from his brilliance. It just made it slightly inconvenient to pick him out of a crowd.

Hermann was lost in his thoughts when a short man quickly rounded the corner of the city block and charged into the coffee shop with his leather jacket wrapped tightly around his small frame against the wind. He had a large messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took Hermann a moment to recalibrate and recognize him out of context. It was the keyboardist of the Black Velvet Rabbits. 

Doc charged in and unzipped his jacket, revealing a pressed, button-up shirt and scanned the room. He noticed Hermann and broke out into a large smile and waved in his direction. 

Hermann looked back over his shoulder before remembering he was in the far corner and there couldn’t possibly be anyone behind him that Doc could be signalling. When he turned back, Doc was making his way over to Hermann’s table. 

“Hey man, this is a weird coincidence! What brings you here?” Doc asked with a smile. 

Hermann paused for a beat before formulating a response. “Yes, it is indeed. I’m meeting a colleague here shortly." 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Doc grinned. “Me too, actually. I was just about to head up to the counter and see if he’s here but then I recognized you from the show last night and thought I’d come say hi.” 

Hermann tried to hold back the tiny smile that was tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’d spoken to Doc only briefly and there must have been hundreds of fans in the queue afterwards, but Doc had remembered Hermann’s face out of context from across a crowded coffee shop without a moment’s hesitation.

“So, uh... look, man,” Doc shuffled his feet a little. “I swear I _never_ do this. But...” 

He reached into his messenger bag, took out a pen and a small notebook, ripped the corner of a piece of paper from it and began to scrawl something down. Hermann noticed he’d removed the nail polish he’d been wearing the night before.

He looked at Hermann over the thick rims of his glasses. “I was sorta kicking myself for not doing this last night.” He thrust the note across the table. 

It was his phone number. 

Hermann gaped and took the scrap of paper before looking back at Doc. 

“No pressure, okay?” Doc smiled slightly. “But I thought you were super hot and you seemed kinda into me too? Uh, anyway, I’m in town for another couple of days if you wanted to... meet up or whatever. My hotel’s not far from here.”

Hermann felt the heat rise to his face. Doc bit his bottom lip and looked straight at Hermann for a beat before bouncing excitedly on his feet. 

“Well, have a good meeting!” he smiled before abruptly turning to go. 

Hermann stared completely awestruck at the number in his hand. He let out a breath and his grip on the paper tightened.

Trying not to appear like he was looking, he watched Doc approach the counter and say something to the barista. She barely glanced at the clipboard before pointing straight at Hermann. Doc followed her finger with his eyes and shook his head. He said something else and pointed to the clipboard, leaning his body onto the counter. She looked annoyed and pointed again emphatically at Hermann’s corner table.

Doc looked confused but proceeded to place an order and went to stand at the other side of the bar to wait for his drink. He pulled his phone out and Hermann could see him quickly typing something before looking up to scan the room. 

Hermann jumped slightly when his phone vibrated on the table next to him moments later. 

13:58pm [Newton Geiszler] Here @ the coffee shop. Text when u get here. 

Hermann stared dumbfounded at the device. This didn’t make any sense. The timing had to be a coincidence.

He replied to the message.

13:59pm [Hermann Gottlieb] Hello Dr. Geiszler. I’m sitting at the corner table farthest from the door. 

He hit send and stared straight at Doc, making no attempts at subtlety. 

He saw the man’s eyes go wide, as he looked up from his phone and over to Hermann. He tucked the device away and strode straight over to the table, closing the distance in seconds. His mouth was open slightly in disbelief. 

“No. Frigging. Way. HERMANN?!” His voice pitched up about an octave and the sudden increase in volume turned a few heads in their direction. 

“D-Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann managed. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, dude!” his colleague practically vibrated. 

Suddenly it dawned on Hermann. If his math was correct (and it undoubtedly was), Newton would have been at MIT getting one of his plethora of doctorates when the band would have been formed.

"Doc."

Right.

Of course.

Granted, he would have never made that absurd leap of logic without the connections laid bare before him now. His head was spinning. The pieces were clicking into place, rapidly, sequentially. Why the Black Velvet Rabbits never disclosed their names or personal details, although photos of them were readily available online. Why Dr. Geiszler’s name was all over the scientific community, but not a single photo of him. Why the band had gone on hiatus the year that Hermann knew Dr. Geiszler had joined the Jaeger Academy.

He wondered absently if he was the first person to have ever stumbled upon this bizarre knowledge. He assumed so or it would have been all over the internet.

He snapped back to reality. Doc, no, Dr. Geiszler just stared at him from across the table with a giant smile, shook his head and started to laugh slightly. 

The barista called across the bar. “One extra-large chocolate mocha brownie double-shot extra hot with whipped cream!” 

“Oh my god,” Dr. Geiszler repeated. “This is so...” 

“... _crazy!”_ he finished.

“... _absurd.”_ Hermann spoke over him in perfect unison. 

Dr. Geiszler just burst out laughing and turned, slightly tripping over himself as he darted to the bar to grab his preposterous chocolate beverage overflowing with whipped cream. He quickly made his way back to the table and sat down.

He nodded at the paper he’d written his number on minutes before. “Guess that was redundant, huh?”

Hermann sputtered. He wanted desperately to salvage the situation, gain some modicum of control and dignity as his mind spun out. 

“Dr. Geiszler, I-” Hermann began. 

“Call me Newt.” 

“Sorry?” 

“I said, call me Newt. I know this is our first... well, technically second time meeting in person, but we’ve known each other for three years. You don’t have to be so formal. Anyway, man, I swear I had no clue it was you or I wouldn’t have...” Newton glanced at the paper. “Well, you know.” 

He ran his hand unconsciously through his dark, unruly hair taking a large sip from his mug. If he felt as embarrassed as Hermann did, he made no outward sign of it. 

“I’m sorry... New...ton,” Hermann tested the name on his lips. He’d run this meeting over and over in his head, mentally rehearsing what he’d say. It was not going even remotely as anticipated. “I’m just having difficulty parsing all this.” 

“Oh, the band thing? I mean,” Newton replied, not missing a beat. “When I started at MIT, I was 16. You’d think, nerd school, I’d have major cred, right? That I’d be the campus rock star! But no one took me seriously. _At all_.” 

He took another big swig of his drink and when he drew the cup away, he had a dollop of whipped cream on his nose. “Can you believe that? So, I joined the band to branch out a bit, I guess.” 

Hermann nodded. Newton seemed to have the remarkable ability to be comfortable in his own skin in any setting. Hermann respected and slightly envied him for it. 

“I barely knew anyone,” Newt continued, gesticulating for emphasis. “So, I went on these long, rambling walks around Boston all the time, just to try and get to know the place so maybe _something_ could feel familiar. Then I saw this poster for a band that was looking for a keyboardist, bonus if they could sing. So, I met up with the gang and we hit it off and started practicing, playing around town.” 

Newton went silent for just a moment, smiling to himself, remembering. “They had to get me a fake ID to play bar shows.” 

He looked back at Hermann, continuing. “Plus, music really helps me concentrate. I know some people find it distracting but I pretty much can’t work without listening to something. It’s like...” he thought for a moment. “Like, it snaps me into focus. And sometimes if I can’t get a concept out, if I’m on the edge of an awesome Eureka moment, you know the feeling, right? The only thing that can draw it out of me is listening to music.” 

This drew Hermann somewhat out of his stupor. “I always listen to piano when I work. The majority of the papers I’ve written were composed to piano accompaniment.” So was every single letter he’d ever written to Dr. Geiszler but he decided to leave this detail out.

“Wow, dude, that’s... somehow really fitting,” Newt said enthusiastically. “Always piano music?” 

“Yes, always. I don’t play any instrument myself, but listening to the piano has always steadied my mind,” Hermann said thoughtfully. 

“That’s wicked,” Newt nodded, a little Boston coming out. “I bet if you wanted to learn to play, you’d pick it up pretty quick.”

Hermann raised his eyebrow. “Why would you say that?” 

“Hmm?” Newt took another sip of his drink, his glasses steaming up slightly. “Because of your big ol’ math brain. I read somewhere that the same parts of your brain are activated when you engage in spatial-temporal reasoning as when you play music.” He started to get excited. “Oh man, with your mad math skills, I bet you could just hammer out some Vivaldi without even thinking twice about it.” 

Newton paused, looking at Hermann and smiling with a hint of self-consciousness. 

“Uh, sorry,” he said. “I’m doing that thing I always do where I go off on a tangent. I was, um. Excited for today. To meet you. I feel like you’re the only one who _gets it_ , you know? Like, the world’s so desperate for any info at all about the Breach or the kaiju that people will write whatever crap they think might get published. They don’t understand that _real_ data isn’t instant, and sometimes having a longer timeline, yeah sure, it means waiting, but it _also_ means getting it right. We could talk theory if you wanna talk theory. I brought practically all your letters with me.” He fumbled around in his messenger bag and held up a sample of the letters. 

The sight of his own handwriting on the letters Newton was holding cemented something in Hermann. His mind flashed to all the times he’d read and reread Dr. Geiszler’s letters with rapt abandon. Newton’s casual demeanor and colloquial speaking style made it easy to compartmentalize the man’s two identities in his mind. The face of the man before him had been ‘Doc’ to him for years, whereas Dr. Geiszler had been a spectre; a brilliant and captivating but faceless phantasm. But seeing him with the letters shattered any semblance of separation he may have been able to maintain in his mind and the distinction between the two crumbled irreparably.

“Um, or...” Newton looked to the side, clearly sensing a shift in Hermann’s comportment. “We don’t have to talk theory if you don’t want to. We never get to meet up like this. We can, uh, we can talk about whatever you want.” He locked his gaze with Hermann’s and his bright green eyes shone with the slightest hint of doubt.

Hermann could not process this. It was completely illogical. This whole mix-up felt like an elaborate prank. The man whose brain never ceased to fascinate him was sitting here in front of him. A dawning realization slowly began to form in the back of his mind.

It had been building this whole time, throughout their correspondence. The way his chest clenched, the way he rushed to his study to open each letter with care and pore over the contents again and again. The revelation hit him hard enough to knock the breath out of him and send a frisson of terror through him as he realised with a sense of dread: he was in love with Dr. Geiszler’s mind. He’d always been able to push the feelings down until now that they were anchored to a person; a person he’d been desperately attracted to for years. 

He suddenly felt a painful surge of shame and humiliation reflecting back on all the depraved ways he’d imagined his… colleague. Unknowingly and unwittingly, yes. But it didn’t change the reality. 

His mind raced down the well-worn path of his fantasies. Irrationally and suddenly, Hermann wanted to grab Newton by the collar of his leather jacket and kiss him hard, pulling off his clean, crisp shirt and shoving him roughly down onto the table, tasting the slight remnants of coffee and chocolate lingering on his tongue.

His thoughts ravaged his helpless mind and his body began to respond in kind. Hermann bit his bottom lip desperately trying to extinguish his desire. The man in front of him awakened something inside him and it was terrifying. Mortifying. Doc and Newton had both been central in his life for years in such different ways, and the realization that they were the same person was a knowledge he was in no way prepared to dissect. 

He could not know whether or not Newton reciprocated any of the deeper feelings he harbored, but there had been enough chemistry between them during their brief encounter at the concert that he had given Hermann his number. If he grabbed Newton and kissed him, Newton would in all likelihood let him. They'd go back to Newton’s hotel room and... _oh, god,_ perhaps they would act out one or several of the myriad of fantasies he’d had over the years. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, attempting in vain to banish the thoughts.

A part of him wanted to take the absurdity of this coincidence as a sign and just let the encounter play out to its organic conclusion. But his rational mind raged against the notion. 

He was in a stable relationship. With a surge of guilt and a wave of nausea, he thought about Lukas. 

Hermann abruptly stood up from the table.

“Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann stammered. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” 

“What?!” Newton looked at him, jaw slack. “Why?”

“We are colleagues. Our earlier interaction was completely inappropriate,” Hermann stated, trying to steady his voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man,” Newton said, looking slightly panicked. “I seriously had no idea it was you when I invited you back to my hotel room. You’re right! Totally inappropriate. Can we just pretend it never happened?” 

A beat of silence passed between them.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Geiszler, I have to go.”

“Hermann, hold on, I-”, Newt looked lost, unsure of what to say.

Hermann’s head started to spin and his chest clenched. He had to get out. He turned without another word, keeping his gaze focused straight ahead, not daring to look back. 

*** 

The whole cab ride home, Hermann could not suppress an immense feeling of shame. He was completely infatuated on two completely different levels with his colleague. It was wholly uncharacteristic of him, a kind of illogical impulse and lack of discipline that he abhorred in others. And apparently, he was no better. 

If he truly had the self-restraint he prided himself with possessing, he could have brushed it off as the absurd situation that it was. But he knew he could not trust himself to that extent and he could not risk being in Newton’s presence any longer. If his colleague began to effuse about the content of their letters; if Hermann got to actually witness that erudite brilliance flow forth from Newton, he would be lost. His resolve would be unrecoverable. The mere thought sent a rush straight through his body like an electrical current. By the time he got home, he’d mentally worked himself into a half panic.

Lukas greeted him at the door with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. 

“So, how did it go?” Lukas asked. “You’re back kind of early.” 

“Fine, it was fine.” Hermann said, flustered. 

“Whoa, hey. Did something happen?” A look of genuine concern that broke Hermann’s heart in pieces began to creep across his partner’s features. 

“No. No, it was fine,” Hermann repeated stiffly. 

“Okay,” Lukas paused for a beat. “But you seem upset.” 

“I just need to be alone,” Hermann abruptly kicked off his oxfords, went straight for his study and closed the door. 

He sat in his chair and put his head in his hands. His mind spun out as the full weight of the situation came crashing down around him. 

They had met and they had clicked. There had been enough chemistry at the concert that Doc, no _Newton,_ had given Hermann his number when they had encountered again by chance. Any mental connection they had aside, Newton was clearly physically attracted to him and Hermann had wanted to act on it. And now the guilt was eating at him. 

Ten minutes or so passed when Lukas quietly knocked on the door of the study. “Hermann?” he called gently. “Can I come in?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hi love,” he crossed the room and handed Hermann a cup of tea. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really, but I...” Hermann breathed in deeply through his nose, the rational side of his mind slowly gaining control. 

Lukas sat in the chair opposite Hermann. He did not say anything, just waited quietly. 

_The man has the patience of a stone,_ Hermann thought morosely.

Lukas had a look of empathy on his face. “I take it that it went badly?” 

An array of excuses passed through Hermann’s mind in rapid sequence. He could say that Dr. Geiszler had been an arrogant prat. He could say that his colleague had to cancel at the last minute. He could say that it was planned to be brief from the start, as the man had a plane to catch. He decided on the truth. 

“Dr. Geiszler turned out to be the keyboardist from the band I saw last night,” Hermann drew in a steadying breath. “He recognized me from the concert and gave me his number and invited me back to his hotel before realizing that I was the colleague he was there to meet.” 

The sound drained out of the room as Hermann waited for his partner to say something. Lukas stared off into the middle distance for a long time.

“Did...” Lukas began slowly. “Did you want to go with him?” 

“Lukas,” Hermann suddenly felt astonishingly exhausted. “Please don’t ask me that.” 

Hermann inhaled deeply and looked at his partner. Lukas averted his eyes and stared out the window. He shook his head and leveled a sad look at Hermann. 

“I mean,” Lukas started. “I guess I should be happy that you didn’t go with him and...” he trailed off and sat staring at his hands. 

It was too much. Hermann had to get out, get air and be alone. 

“Lukas, I’m sorry. I need to go for a walk to clear my head,” Hermann stated. Lukas nodded slowly. 

Hermann just barely made it outside before he felt the sting of tears. He had not cried since he was a child. He’d be damned if he was going to cry now. He kept his chin raised against the chill air and blinked the tears out of existence as the leaves crunched beneath his feet.

He never received another letter from Dr. Geiszler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed Newt and Hermann’s infamously disastrous first rendezvous! Oh, these ridiculous boys.
> 
> We know that canonically something must have happened during their first in person meeting to retroactively tarnish three years of passionate and fascinating letters. I wanted to explore a different take, where in fact, they got on brilliantly and it wasn’t an inherent personality clash that drove a wedge between them. Kind of… sort of… the opposite? I love the idea that all signs were pointing to perfect but it was too much too soon. 
> 
> Oh, Hermann. If only you could just let your life be a gay romcom with monsters, we would all be better off for it.
> 
> Next chapter: Hermann tries desperately to bury his sexually and intellectually conflicted feelings for Doc Geiszler and forget the whole thing ever happened when he gets an offer to join a team of scientific specialists in the Hong Kong Shatterdome...


	3. Rubato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a disastrous first meeting with Dr. Geiszler, their written correspondence comes to an abrupt halt. But when Hermann receives a job offer from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps to join an elite team of scientists at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, he must choose between his comfortable life in Germany with his partner and his career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German translations:  
> Bruder: brother  
> Schwester: sister

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb threw himself utterly and completely into his work.

The first few times the post had come, the same familiar wave of anticipation had swept over him. He hoped against all logic that a new letter would appear with the same erratic, brilliant dissertations as before. But months passed with nothing and he was forced to accept what he already knew. There would be no further correspondence from Dr. Geiszler.

He toyed with the idea of taking the initiative, irrespective of the fact that he'd been the last to write. He could take up his new letter straight after the most recent one he had sent, a continuation of his exposition as if nothing had happened. Or he could write a letter of apology to Dr. Geiszler for his abrupt departure from their meeting.

On multiple evenings he had sat in his office, pen in hand, attempting in vain to begin, but he could never get past the first few sentences before abandoning the task.

He replayed the meeting over and over in his head. He had known that a small, irrational part of him had wanted to throw away the life he’d built, his professional decorum, everything. But what would have been the desired outcome if he had? Did he think that after a roll around in bed together Dr. Geiszler would have invited him back to Boston? Or asked Hermann to follow him around on tour with his band? It was absurd to even think about; it would have been the height of idiocy to act on his illogical compulsions.

Instead, he tried to quell his thoughts and avoided thinking about the encounter. He stored the letters in a safe place in his study and did not reread them. He took the Black Velvet Rabbits off his playlist. 

The magazine... well, he could compartmentalize that much at least, couldn’t he? In a way it felt easier to mentally reduce the man to a sexual object than to allow any other feeling to creep uninvited into his mind. At any rate, after this many years, it was far too ingrained in his psyche to truly circumvent.

The entire situation had created a tension between him and Lukas that had taken months to subside. He knew that Lukas did not blame him for the bizarre circumstance, and Hermann had not done anything outward to jeopardize his partner’s trust. But the incident sat between them like a schism of uncertainty and doubt that had not existed prior.

After that initial conversation, they never spoke of it.

More than once, Hermann wished they could have argued about it. A truly heinous, bitter argument that left them both breathless with rage. He wanted Lukas to be angry, to challenge him on falling in love with a man he’d never even met in person through a series of words on paper. To call him out on having an embarrassingly adolescent crush on a rock star. 

The silence and avoidance of the topic felt much worse.

Because he knew his partner too well. Lukas would not tear him down, would not yell, would not fight, would not blame. Hermann knew if he pushed, Lukas would withdraw. And that would be the end of it. The end of them. The best he could hope for was that with time it would fade steadily into the past. 

So, Hermann submerged himself fully in his work. 

Many of the world’s top scientific institutions had research teams in conjunction with the PPDC and Hermann’s alma mater was no exception. His father Dr. Lars Gottlieb had personally established the joint program himself.

Hermann had worked out of the lab in TU Berlin for a number of years now, assisting with the coding of the Mark-1 series of Jaegers and researching the nature of the Breach. Its location had been mapped out a year or so prior; what was of interest now was whether anything could be done to alter or close it. He and his associates had determined that the Breach used tectonic energy to open a kind of portal through which the kaiju passed. Exactly how this was done or where they were coming from was still a complete enigma but the upper echelons of the organization were desperate for any further data or information that could be of use tactically.

*** 

_June 9, 2020_

It was Hermann’s birthday and he was at home alone. Lukas had accepted a tenure track position at Humboldt-Universität Berlin that meant occasional trips to other institutions and he was out of town for a multi-day conference. He’d promised Hermann that they’d make it up when he got back.

Hermann had never attached much importance to his birthday and would have been perfectly content making himself a nice dinner and having a bottle of wine, but his sister Karla had insisted that he wasn’t going to spend his birthday alone and had mandated a Skype date.

He sat down at his laptop with a generously portioned glass of wine and let Karla know he was ready any time. She responded immediately and as soon as the video connected, she began a tone-deaf but enthusiastic rendition of 'happy birthday', her brown ponytail swishing along to her animated and elaborate arm movements as she mimed conducting an orchestra.

Her antics had always amused Hermann more than he would ever outwardly admit. He had barely any contact at all with his brother Bastien, who reminded Hermann far too much of their father. He got on well enough with his brother Dieterich, but they didn’t have a close relationship like Hermann did with Karla.

She finished her brief one woman show and shouted, “Hermann! Happy birthday, Bruder!”

“Thank you, Schwester. How are you doing, my dear?” Hermann smiled.

“Not bad, not bad. Did you get the delivery?” she asked, clearly trying to get a glimpse of his desk over the webcam.

Hermann held up the cupcake that had been delivered along with a single candle about forty-five minutes prior. He was not really one for sweets, but the gesture had been much appreciated.

“I couldn’t remember if you were a chocolate guy or a vanilla guy... so I went with red velvet," she beamed.

“It’s delightful, Karla, thank you. I’m just boiling the kettle now to have it with a cup of tea,” Hermann said cordially. Karla always tried to do something to make his birthday special and he never realized until this year, spending it alone, how grateful he was for her efforts. 

“Tea to go with your giant goblet of wine?” Karla giggled, pointing to the glass at the left of the video frame.

“Well, it _is_ my birthday,” Hermann said, mock-indignantly. “I’m entitled to as wide a variety of beverages as I please.”

Karla chuckled slightly. “So, how come Lukas is out of town?” she asked.

“He’s away at a conference,” Hermann stated in answer.

“Wow, he left you alone on your birthday for a dumb _conference?”_ She was clearly unimpressed. 

“Karla, don’t be absurd,” Hermann chided. “We are grown adults. I’d have been horrified if he missed a professional commitment on my account.”

“I guess...” she didn’t sound convinced but dropped the subject. “So, how’s work? Is dad leaving you mostly alone?”

“Usually,” Hermann said dryly. “You know that he and I have never really seen eye to eye so it’s always a bit of a strain to be involved in anything that he is essentially leading.”

“You probably shouldn’t have joined the PPDC then,” Karla raised an eyebrow at him.

“Touché,” Hermann conceded. Dr. Lars Gottlieb was not a man who fostered warm, familial relationships, but his and Hermann’s had always been particularly strained. Hermann had initially hesitated to enlist in the PPDC’s Jaeger Academy, but contributing to the war effort in a meaningful way had seemed more important than his paternal problems.

“Aaaaand have you gotten any more letters from Dr. Geiszler?” Karla asked with a sly grin.

He had told Karla the abridged story in an email and not a day went by that he didn’t regretted mentioning it. 

He hadn’t disclosed Dr. Geiszler’s identity as the Black Velvet Rabbit’s keyboardist, modifying the details to adjust for this. In the version he’d told Karla, they had spoken at the concert where they were both coincidentally in attendance, neglected to exchange names, and then the rest of the retelling followed the real chain of events. Well, except that he had also left out the true reasons for his departure, indicating simply that things were awkward after the mix-up and hook-up invitation and professionally speaking, the meeting was best left unfinished. 

Reflecting on it now, he supposed the variant he’d told her only partially resembled the actual progression of events. But it had been more than enough to stoke her curiosity and predictably, her first question had been to inquire as to Dr. Geiszler's 'level of hotness', to which Hermann sputtered something noncommittal that Karla had taken to mean 'quite hot.'

He really should have kept the whole incident to himself.

“No. As I’ve said countless times before, we have not resumed our correspondence,” Hermann stated as neutrally as possible. “Things were left on... strange terms.”

“I don’t like it, Hermann. You were always so happy when you got a letter from him. And the way you talked about him all the time… I don’t understand why you haven't tried to patch things up. Just swallow your pride for once and send him _some kind_ of message.” Karla looked perplexed and Hermann found himself envious of her ability to avoid over-complicating things.

"Karla, I don’t exactly wish to talk about my failed social interactions all night," he was tiring quickly of this line of questioning and desperately wanted to change the subject. "Tell me about your program, how is it all going?” He replenished the dwindling liquid level in his wine glass.

“I mean, you know me, I’ve always loved ancient history and this Master's program has been everything I’d wanted,” Karla's smile turned into a sigh. “But I worry sometimes that with all that’s happening in the world right now, no one really cares about the past, you know? Maybe it’s just not relevant with the apocalypse impending. My timing couldn’t be worse.”

“I can understand your apprehensions,” Hermann stated empathetically. “But, Karla, you are a brilliant budding historian. I have total faith that you will find your place either in academia or out in the real world.”

“Oh, so academia isn’t the real world?” Karla raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Never tell anyone I said that,” Hermann said flatly before stifling an only _slightly_ inebriated chuckle. 

He had intended to keep the call short and spend the rest of the night reading, but instead he proceeded to finish off his decanter as Karla put a solid dent into the bottle of gin she was drinking. It was after 11:00pm when they finally ended the call.

After signing off, Hermann got himself a large glass of water and checked his emails one last time before turning in for the night. There were a number of happy birthday emails from colleagues and friends, but his eyes stopped on an email from the PPDC Human Resources Department. He corresponded regularly with the organization through his work joint venture, but not with the HR Department. His heart went up in his throat as he clicked on the message.

________________________________

From: Pan Pacific Defense Corps Human Resources <ppdc-hr@ppdc.com>

Date: Tuesday, June 9, 2020 at 10:05 PM 

Subject: Offer of Employment: Hong Kong Shatterdome 

To: Hermann Gottlieb <hermann.gottlieb@tu-berlin.de>

Dear Dr. Gottlieb,

Greetings from the Pan Pacific Defense Corps Human Resources Department. 

In light of your outstanding research record and your work at TU Berlin on the physics of the Breach, it is our pleasure to offer you a position in the Kaiju Science Division of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. We appreciate the work you are doing at our Berlin partner, but at this juncture, we feel your skills would be better served in a PPDC facility.

We are assembling a team of experts and wish to make the Hong Kong Shatterdome the center of our scientific efforts. It is our sincerest hope that you will consider our offer. We will be happy to provide you details of your compensation package and answer any and all questions you may have upon receipt of your statement of interest. 

Please respond by close of business Monday, June 15, 2020.

Best regards,

Carol Delaine 

Pan Pacific Defense Corps Human Resources Director 

_______________________________

Hermann re-read the email half a dozen times to ensure that it wasn’t just wine-induced wishful thinking. An acute surge of excitement rushed through him.

His work over the years in Berlin had been enriching and he had made great strides in his predictive models. However, he had begun to feel somewhat suffocated, partially by the fact that his father had established this research chapter himself. Not to mention frequent network remote access challenges and time differences. A change of scenery and the ability to collaborate in person with the world’s top minds on the subject would no doubt help him push through some of the roadblocks he’d encountered personally and professionally.

Elated, he picked up the phone and dialed Lukas. They’d spoken earlier in the day when he'd rung to wish Hermann a happy birthday and reiterated that they would celebrate when he got back, but this new development more than merited a second call.

“Hello love,” Lukas picked up after two rings, sounding somewhat worried. “What’s wrong?” As a rule, Hermann never phoned anyone after 10:00pm unless it was dire.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, but I’ve just now received some rather big news,” Hermann said, launching straight into it. “I’ve been offered a position in the Kaiju Science Division of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps Shatterdome... in Hong Kong.”

The line went quiet.

“Hello?” Hermann asked. “Are you still there?”

“Hong Kong?” Lukas’ voice was guarded.

“Obviously we’ll need to talk about it when you’re back from your conference. They expect my answer in one week.”

There was a beat of silence on the line. “It’s a lot to think about,” Lukas said finally. 

Hermann understood his partner’s shock. The offer was somewhat out of nowhere and would have massive implications for their path forward.

“Indeed,” Hermann said cautiously, allowing Lukas the next comment.

“Well, it’s quite late here,” Lukas faltered. “And I have an early morning.”

“Y-yes, of course,” Hermann stumbled, feeling somewhat deflated at the insufficiency of their conversation. “Good luck with your seminar tomorrow and good night.”

“Good night,” Lukas said, ending the call.

Hermann sat staring at the phone in his hands. He understood that this was something they’d have to talk about. But regardless of what they decided to do, this was still a significant moment and an affirmation of his professional accomplishments. He had wanted Lukas to at least share in his excitement for that.

He understood Lukas’ trepidation however. They had put roots down in Berlin and he knew that moving to Hong Kong would mean his partner giving up his tenure track position.

He thought to contact Karla again, but they’d just spoken for hours and he felt perhaps he needed a fresh perspective.

He scrolled through his contacts and messaged his former flatmate Nolan. He knew from experience that Nolan kept late hours and that it was fair game to text before midnight.

11:24pm [Hermann] Hello Nolan, I hope you are well. I just wanted to share some news with you. I have been offered a job at the PPDC Hong Kong Shatterdome.

Suddenly his phone started ringing. Hermann despised receiving actual phone calls, but he hoped at least this meant that Nolan was excited for him. He picked up.

“HERMANN!! BRO!! It’s been an age!!” Nolan shouted happily.

Unaccustomed as he was these days to speaking to Nolan on the phone, he momentarily forgot the old instinctual impulse of holding his cell a good ten or more centimeters from his ear. Nolan continued with his characteristic excitement and volume. “Did you get my e-card?!?!”

In true Nolan fashion, the card had been absolutely tasteless, but it was the thought that counted.

When Hermann had moved in with Lukas, he had finally come out to Nolan (lest he think that Hermann was abandoning him for another flatmate). 

Nolan had simply nodded and said, “Thank god, bro. And here I was thinking you were a big ol’ prude!” before giving him a friendly jab in the arm.

“I did indeed get the e-card, thank you,” Hermann said, before awkwardly adding. “A male stripper jumping out of a cake in gif form is... a classic... I suppose.”

“Nailed it,” Nolan verbally patted himself on the back before changing the subject. “So, tell me about this new gig!”

Hermann waxed poetic about the job itself and the opportunity it represented. He knew Nolan wasn’t fully following the specifics of the work he’d be doing, but bless him, he gave earnest exclamations at the appropriate times.

"So, when do you fly to Hong Kong?”

Hermann’s tone became more solemn. “I... haven’t officially accepted it yet. I need to talk to Lukas about it first and he’s out of town."

“What’s to talk about?! It’s your dream job!”

“Well, I’ve just now gotten off the line with him,” Hermann explained. “He didn’t sound very pleased with the idea.”

“Bro...” Nolan sounded genuinely sympathetic. “You wanna come over and talk about it?”

“It’s going for midnight, Nolan,” Hermann protested, although he was touched by the gesture.

“Oh, shit, so it is. Um, tomorrow then. Come over for breakfast and we can talk.”

“Are you certain?” Hermann hesitated. He didn’t want to impose.

“Of course,” Nolan affirmed. “I think I’ve even got some bread and tomatoes in the fridge, so you can make your favorite weirdo breakfast. See you at 10:00am?”

Hermann exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.

“Thank you, Nolan.”

****** 

At 9:57am the following day, Hermann walked up to the front door of his old flat and almost instinctively started looking for his keys. It felt strange to have to ring the doorbell. He heard various thumping noises from within until Nolan flung open the door and gave Hermann a huge bear hug.

“Happy day-after-your-birthday, bro!” he beamed. Hermann chuckled at his former flatmate’s energy as the air was enthusiastically crushed out of his lungs.

“Well, come on in,” Nolan stepped aside and let Hermann enter. He noticed a pair of women’s shoes in the foyer and hoped that he wasn’t interrupting anything.

The place hadn’t changed much and he couldn't help but feel slightly nostalgic. 

They settled into breakfast, chatting casually and catching up. Nolan told Hermann in detail about how he’d completed his first short film and was trying to shop it out around the independent film circuit while making Hermann a cup of tea. Other than Nolan’s inability to pick his socks up off the floor, Hermann sometimes missed living with him. Things had seemed simpler then.

During their chat, Hermann heard a shuffling noise coming from Nolan’s room, followed by the bathroom door closing and the sound of running water. Minutes later, a young woman came out into the kitchen rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was wearing an oversized Black Velvet Rabbits t-shirt as a nightshirt. She shuffled over in huge fuzzy plush wolf slippers and planted a sleepy kiss on Nolan’s head before waving hello at Hermann.

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” Nolan smiled at her affectionately. “Natalie, Hermann. Hermann, Natalie. She’s been, uh, crashing here for a while...” he cleared his throat. “In my room...”

She looked familiar, but Hermann couldn’t quite place her. Natalie, however, recognized him instantly.

“Wait, aren’t you the guy from the Black Velvet Rabbits concert?” she asked, arms folded in front of her comfortably.

Yes, that’s right. She’d been the one with the custom rabbit ears who’d given him a thumbs up.

“Oh my god, Hermann, _you_ were at that show _too_?” Nolan said dramatically. “I still can’t believe I couldn’t get a ticket!”

“Yeah, I thought you looked familiar!” Natalie looked excited. She turned to Nolan, “We shared a moment when Doc took off his jacket.”

Nolan rolled his eyes affectionately, “Of course you did, babe.” He looked at Hermann and winked. “Not that I’m complaining. Lucky for me she’s into short, nerdy guys.”

Natalie gave him a kiss on the cheek and giggled and Hermann felt glad for Nolan. He’d honestly worried a little when he’d moved out. Nolan was an extremely social person and being alone in the apartment probably would not have been good for him.

“So how did you two meet?” Hermann asked and took a bite of his toast.

“We met randomly at the Rock Shop downtown,” Nolan glanced at Natalie fondly. “I thought she was, like, way out of my league, so I didn’t talk to her.”

“And I saw him looking at me, and I thought he was cute,” Natalie poured herself a cup of coffee and added a generous tablespoon of hot chocolate mix into the mug. “He was in the metal section, so I figured he was a good guy and I asked him out on a date.”

She giggled again and gave Nolan a playful shove and he gave her hand a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to Hermann.

“Anyway! So, tell me about this big fancy job,” Nolan poured himself another glass of orange juice as he explained to Natalie. “Hermann is this super smart math guy who’s been doing work for the Pan Pacific Defense Corps for a few years, and they just offered him a sweet job in Hong Kong.”

“Hong Kong?! Wow, so lucky! That is like, my dream city! When do you start?” Natalie looked excited for him and Hermann was starting to get the feeling that, like Nolan, happy enthusiasm was her baseline.

Hermann organized his thoughts for a moment. “Well, it’s not quite that simple,” he explained. “When I told my partner last night, he didn’t sound enthusiastic.”

“He was probably just surprised,” Nolan interjected. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this and so does he. And, like, the Breach isn’t going to close itself, and if I could assemble a genius dream team to get it done, I’d want you on it.”

“It’s an important task to be sure,” Hermann nodded in agreement, internally elated by the compliment. “But it will mean that Lukas will have to give up his tenure track job.”

“Couldn’t he get something at a university over there?” Natalie asked.

“Well, it’s no guarantee,” Hermann continued. “Academia can be... complicated in that regard. Also, his entire family is here and he’s never lived outside of Germany. It would be asking a lot.” 

“Hermann,” Nolan was rarely serious, but when he wanted to be, he could cut through the superfluous with impressive proficiency. He now looked at Hermann levelly. “Do you want to take the job?”

Hermann sighed.

“More than anything,” he admitted.

“Then I’m _sure_ Lukas will be on board.”

*** 

Hermann met Lukas at the door when he arrived home two days later.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday, love,” he said, kissing Hermann on the cheek.

“Nonsense. You know I don’t pay any mind to that sort of thing,” Hermann stated, before turning to walk down the hallway. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen, I’m just preparing dinner.”

Hermann returned to the stove in a hurry to save the caramelizing onions from an unpleasant char.

Lukas dropped his suitcase off in the bedroom, washed up and joined him minutes later.

As Lukas entered the room, Hermann cleared his throat. As much as he knew it would be perhaps more tactful to wait and have the conversation later, it had been occupying his every waking thought and he couldn’t put it off a second longer than absolutely necessary.

“Regarding Hong Kong,” he began, resolute.

“Hermann, I just got home. I’m tired. Can we just have a nice dinner and talk about it tomorrow?” Lukas asked, brown eyes pleading.

Hermann knew no good ever came of pushing his partner. Once the man was in a corner, he shut down completely and there was no having a constructive conversation if that happened. It took every fiber of his being not to heave an exasperated sigh. But he could wait a day if he must. 

“Certainly,” Hermann said, trying to sound reasonable and not give away the discontentment he felt putting off the inevitable.

“So, how was the rest of the conference?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

“Oh, it was fine. My seminar was well received,” Lukas stated.

Hermann waited for him to continue. He was not in the mood for small talk so he let the moment hang there without pursuing it and Lukas did not elaborate. Usually their silence was comfortable but tonight it carried the weight of every postponed word unspoken. Their exchange was limited during dinner, other than the occasional pleasantry about the meal.

Afterwards, Lukas cleaned up the dishes before starting a load of laundry and beginning his evening preparations for the following day.

He was up and out the door early the next day and back later than usual. Hermann once again tried to initiate the impending conversation and was once again shut down.

“I had a really long day at work catching up on everything,” Lukas said, sounding tired. “They don’t need your answer for another couple days, so can we talk about it tomorrow?”

Hermann felt a wave of resentment crest that he had not been aware was churning beneath the surface. They had been together long enough that Lukas knew with certainty how much putting things off until the last minute raised Hermann’s anxiety to intolerable heights. But Lukas was non-confrontational to a fault. If a dispute could be avoided, Lukas would avoid it. Hermann suspected that tomorrow Lukas would be scarcely more willing to engage.

“Lukas, I would like to talk about it tonight,” Hermann began, adamant and insistent. “We can’t put this off indefinitely.”

“I don’t want to put it off indefinitely,” Lukas began and Hermann could feel the barrier rising. “We will absolutely talk about it tomorrow.”

“I think that would be ill-advised given that-”

“Hermann, please don’t do that thing you do,” Lukas cut him off. “Where you try to make your desired outcome look like the objective and logical option, as opposed to the option you subjectively want.”

“That is absurd,” Hermann could feel his tightly wound control on his emotions starting to come undone. “And I don’t understand how a necessary and, might I add, _time-sensitive_ conversation about our future has given way to defamation of my character.”

Lukas took Hermann’s hand and squeezed it for a moment before letting go, refusing to look his partner in the eye.

“Hermann,” he stared down at the floor. “I’m not going to Hong Kong with you.”

Hermann’s vision tunneled and he felt his breath constricting painfully in his chest.

“We haven’t even discussed it,” he began, cautiously. “I didn’t say that I was definitely going to take the job. It’s a decision we have to make together.”

Lukas shook his head. “I know you better than that. I know you’ve already decided and now it’s just a matter of trying to convince me,” his eyes remained fixed on the floor. “My family is here, and I finally have the job I’ve worked so hard to get. I can't just upend everything like that. And you’ll be so busy, I’ll be on my own a lot and I know I’ll just end up… resenting you for it.”

Lukas inhaled deeply and finally looked Hermann in the eyes, “Hermann... I care about you and... I know you have to do this. But I can’t do this with you.”

Hermann felt a twist of panic, but simultaneously something within him unclenched. Lukas was right. He'd already made up his mind. He’d already accepted the job, other than the formality of officially confirming it. And he had not left Lukas any negotiating power or agency. His statement that it would be a decision they made together, ultimately, was empty. He knew it, and Lukas knew it. 

It was the same when he’d met with Dr. Geiszler. As the situation unfolded, Lukas had been secondary in his thoughts. Certainly, he had felt guilt when he had caught himself in the maelstrom of his own mind, but that guilt did not absolve him then any more than it did now. He felt stupid and selfish. Stupid for not recognizing the inevitability of what was happening. Selfish for his unwillingness to compromise.

“I’m sorry,” Hermann said simply. There was nothing more to say.

“I know,” Lukas smiled back at him sadly.

*** 

Hermann sat in his office packing his things. He heard back from the PPDC HR director shortly after indicating his interest with the details of his compensation package, which he glanced over before confirming his acceptance.

Given that his program at TU Berlin was a joint PPDC venture, it was not necessary to give two weeks notice. The HR director was happy to have him arrive as soon as was convenient for him and he confirmed that he only needed one week to get his affairs in order and get to Hong Kong. He began the paperwork necessary for the transition; filled out the personnel survey, made relevant updates to his dossier and was given a start date so that he could book his flights.

Lukas had announced the same night of their conversation that he would stay with his parents for a few days to allow Hermann some space.

Hermann had stood in the doorway in silence as Lukas put his shoes on and grabbed his small duffle bag. With his hand on the door to leave, he turned to Hermann and smiled, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

And then he was gone.

Hermann had continued to stand numbly in the foyer for an unmeasured amount of time until he finally wrenched himself out of his catatonia and turned to head back to the study to finish getting his affairs in order.

He packed his essentials in suitcases and placed his other items into boxes labeled for future shipment. He and Lukas had luckily kept the containers from when Hermann had moved in. He knew from his correspondence with HR that his quarters would be furnished and relatively small, so it was not advisable to bring any large items with him.

He sat in a daze on the old office chair in his study, picking absently at little bits of foam from the armrests.

In moments like this Hermann almost always preferred to be alone. So when he reached for his phone and was suddenly dialing Nolan’s number, he was surprised at himself.

The phone rang twice before Nolan picked up.

“Hermann! How’d the convo go?” he asked cheerfully.

“Not... not well I’m afraid,” Hermann tried desperately to steady his voice. “I depart for Hong Kong in a week. But I will be going alone.”

“Oh shit, bro,” Nolan said sympathetically. “Where are you staying until you leave?”

“I was thinking of getting a hotel.” He hadn’t quite gotten that far yet logistically. “Lukas is staying with his parents for a few days, but I’d prefer to vacate the apartment sooner rather than later.”

“Nuh-uh,” Nolan said, resolute. “I’m not letting you spend your last week in Berlin in some crappy hotel wallowing in self-pity. Come crash with me and Nat.”

Hermann’s first instinct was to decline the offer. He despised feeling like a burden to anyone. But he supposed the only thing worse than imposing would be spending his last week in Berlin in a hotel waiting for the time to pass.

“Thank you, Nolan,” Hermann said. “I’ll see you shortly.”

*** 

Hermann’s final week in Germany flew by in a blur. He packed his things from his lab in TU Berlin and his co-workers had a little impromptu goodbye get-together for him. 

He sorted out practical logistics during the day, but spent the evenings with Nolan and Nat watching movies and playing board games. They were clearly trying to keep him as entertained and distracted as possible, which he appreciated immensely. 

On the day of his departure, he hugged Nolan and Nat good-bye, thanking them for being such gracious hosts and made his way to the airport. He proceeded through security, got himself a tea and waited at his gate. He had been so busy with coordinating his international move that he hadn’t really had a chance to let the reality fully sink in. There had been too much to do to begin getting excited.

As the plane ascended and he watched Berlin shrink into the distance, his old life began to fade with it. He turned his attention away from the view out the window. It was time to start looking forward. He was on his way to Hong Kong and to infinite possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s a wrap for the pre-Shatterdome era! This is the only chapter in which Newt does not make an appearance, due to the canon three year no contact period. But it will be the only one.
> 
> Given that the chapter is largely devoid of Newt, it is also devoid of music, which is a common passion that Newt and Hermann have shared up until now, although it manifests in each one of them in a distinct way; Newt as artist, Hermann as aficionado. Music (see: shared love of) will continue to be an underlying theme in subsequent chapters. I love BVR!Newt far too much to be done with that thread. 
> 
> A note about Lukas. I think that Lukas is the kind of person that Hermann in his younger years would have been drawn to romantically; polite, reserved and conflict-averse. My impression is that Hermann, despite his proper and professional side, has a very strong personality and therefore long-term needs a partner who will challenge him. Lukas represents to me what Hermann probably thinks he wanted at this point in his life, but ultimately, due to his headstrong nature, they are incompatible when a large, life-altering decision looms.
> 
> Anyway, if you’ve read up to this point, then thank you so much. I hope that means you’re enjoying the story so far. Lots more to come!


	4. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly assigned to the Shatterdome, Hermann arrives in Hong Kong to meet his new K-Science colleagues. Newt does not appear happy to learn that he’ll be working with Hermann and their strained interactions are pushed to the breaking point during orientation day. Hermann is determined to try and set things right between them without revealing the true reasons behind his premature departure from their first meeting.

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb stepped out of the cab in front of the imposing structure of the Hong Kong Shatterdome on the first day of orientation.

The building hummed with movement. Giant cargo crates were being shipped into the complex via a massive dock and loading bay as dozens of people in uniform guided the process. Helicopters buzzed around the immense metal base and Hermann could see a team of military types jogging along the seawall. 

He’d been to the Anchorage Shatterdome during his time at the Jaeger Academy, but the Hong Kong locale dwarfed its North American counterpart. Hermann felt a surge of excitement as he stood staring up at it while the cab driver unloaded his suitcases from the trunk. 

A tall statuesque woman in her forties with a pleasant countenance and a sharp blazer strode over to him from across the concrete lot accompanied by two young staffers with luggage carts. Hermann turned to properly greet her.

“Ms. Carol Delaine, I presume,” Hermann extended his hand.

"Dr. Gottlieb,” she gave his proffered hand a crisp, professional shake. “On behalf of the PPDC, welcome to Hong Kong. We’re pleased to have you on board.”

The junior staffers set about putting Hermann’s cases into the cart and made their way back towards the base.

“Your luggage will be brought to your quarters,” she offered by way of explanation. “The other members of the team have almost all arrived. Before we show you all to your living spaces, I’d like to introduce you and give you a little tour.”

She gestured towards the massive front entrance and Hermann fell into step with her as the structure loomed steadily closer in front of them. 

“Thank you,” he said cordially. “I very much look forward to meeting everyone.”

As they moved through the main doors, Ms. Delaine spoke to the security guard who checked Hermann’s ID before letting him advance through the metal detector.

“Your employee pass is being configured,” she waved at the guards, who nodded as she scanned her card. “It will be ready for you after lunch.”

The main conference room was just to the right of the principal entrance, clearly intended to receive external visitors outside of the tightly secured operations zone.

Ms. Delaine showed Hermann into the meeting room. Three people were already present, chatting amongst themselves beside the coffee machine. They turned to look when Hermann and Ms. Delaine entered.

“Dr. Gottlieb,” she gestured to the assembled group. “Let me introduce Drs. Lamont, Chen and Garcia.” They each nodded in response to their names. “We’re just waiting on our final member, I’ve told reception to bring him here when he arrives. In the meantime, we can all take a seat and-”

Suddenly, Dr. Newton Geiszler burst into the room in a flurry, slightly breathless. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late!” he half shouted, then added with a slight smile. “The cab took me to the wrong Shatterdome.” 

He jerked his shoulder to flick off his leather jacket. Hermann noticed the woman identified as Dr. Lamont stifle an amused snicker.

Hermann’s chest felt tight at the sight of the other man. Despite the abrupt cessation of their correspondence, he had continued to follow Dr. Geiszler’s research in journals and publications. If anything, his colleague had become even more prolific in his writings since their meeting three years ago. He supposed with the growing level of global urgency this was to be expected.

He’d made a conscious effort since their encounter to strike any personal thoughts of his colleague from his mind. But the sight of the younger man brought the memories back in an unbidden flood; the intellectual connection he’d felt with Newton in their letters, the physical attraction he’d felt to Doc ever since he’d laid eyes on him posing with his band mates around him in a poster, his discomfort upon realising they were the same person. He flushed at the remembrance of Newton declaring Hermann was "super hot" and inviting him back to his hotel room when he'd thought that Hermann was simply a fan coincidentally in the same coffee shop. Seeing Newton again now brought back a barrage of thoughts he was unprepared to define.

He’d wondered on more than one occasion whether Newton would be part of the newly assembled Hong Kong Kaiju Science division. The man was an expert and more than qualified for the role. What was unclear to Hermann at this juncture was whether he’d desperately hoped Newton would be there or whether he’d desperately hoped he wouldn’t.

Newton glanced around the room and nodded to the other assembled scientists before turning to Ms. Delaine.

“You must be Carol from HR, right?” He extended his hand with a winsome smile. “I’m Newt Geiszler.”

“Good morning, Dr. Geiszler,” she smiled back at him and shook his hand cordially. If she was irritated by his tardiness or informality, she made no outward indication. “You’re just in time, we were about to get started.”

Newton threw his well-worn leather jacket unceremoniously over an empty chair, took a seat next to Dr. Chen and proceeded to roll up the sleeves of his collared shirt. He’d clearly gotten more tattoos since Hermann had seen him last. Both his forearms now boasted colorful ink and the design seemed to continue beyond what was presently visible.

Hermann had seen the beginnings of Newton’s forearm tattoo at the concert but it had been almost entirely obscured by his large leather bracer and he had kept the long sleeves of his shirt in place during their brief meeting the following day. Now for the first time, he had the opportunity to fully observe the subject matter. 

_Good lord_.

He couldn’t imagine what had inspired the man to etch something this controversial onto himself so permanently, let alone what possessed him to display it so boldly to his colleagues during their first impression of him. It seemed like an act of defiance, or perhaps a figurative ripping off the band-aid of his identity. As if to say, _this is me, deal with it._

Dr. Lamont glanced down at Newton’s arms and nodded appreciatively. “Nice ink,” she half whispered. 

Newton looked pleased. “Thanks!” he beamed. “Just got the right side done.”

Hermann noticed Dr. Chen glance down and shift slightly in his seat.

Ms. Delaine cleared her throat, tactfully regaining control of the room. “While it’s possible some of you have met in the field, I was thinking we could begin with a round-table. I’ll start. I’m Carol Delaine, PPDC-HR department director, and your go-to for anything you need getting settled in. I graduated from the University of Pennsylvania and I’ve worked for the PPDC for six years. And... why don’t we all throw in a little personal detail as an ice-breaker?”

Hermann suppressed a shudder. He despised this type of corporate get-to-know-you exercise and he began immediately thinking about something innocuous to share with the group when his dreaded turn came along.

Ms. Delaine concluded her introduction, “I live off-base in an apartment with my husband and our two daughters.”

She looked to her immediate right and gestured comfortably. “Dr. Lamont, would you like to continue the introductions?”

“Sure,” Dr. Lamont grinned widely at the group. She was tall with short-cropped blonde hair and a small silver stud in her nose. “I’m Christina Lamont, but you can call me Chris. I got my PhD in Point Set Topology from the University of Toronto. I’ve been working on Breach dynamics and mapping since graduating from the Jaeger Academy in 2014. My fun fact is that I like doing cross-stitch and going out dancing.”

She looked to her right to Dr. Chen, who nodded. He was a man of average height with an athletic build and a distinguished grey streak in his dark hair. “I’m Alex Chen, and I got my PhD in Biology from Tsinghua University specializing in kaiju taxonomy. I graduated from the Jaeger Academy in 2013 and was assigned to the Tokyo Shatterdome where I assisted in developing the Serizawa Scale to determine kaiju categorization. I’m passionate about training and weight lifting.”

The circle continued to Dr. Garcia. She had long, thick hair swept up in a high ponytail and stylish cat-eye glasses with bold red frames. “Hi folks! I’m excited to be here. I’m Karolina Garcia but please call me Kay. I’m from Guanajuato State but my parents moved to Mexico City when I was twelve for my dad’s work. That’s my personal detail I guess. I have my PhD in Number Theory from la Universidad Tecnológico de Monterrey. I graduated from the Jaeger Academy in 2017.”

The circle now swung to Hermann. “Greetings everyone. My name is Hermann Gottlieb and I received my PhD in Engineering and Applied Sciences from the Technical University of Berlin and have been working in a joint research program between the PPDC and the institution since my time at the Jaeger Academy in 2015.” Now for the dreaded personal detail. He decided to keep it as generic as possible. “I enjoy reading and cooking.”

Dr. Chen interrupted the continuation for a moment to ask, “Gottlieb...? Any relation to Dr. Lars Gottlieb?”

Hermann absolutely despised this line of questioning whenever it came up. It was a legitimate query and he could not fault his colleague for asking, but it always made him feel like the inquirer suspected that Hermann had gained his association with the PPDC through nepotism. If anything, the opposite was true and his father had always complicated things for Hermann precisely due to their familial connection.

He put on as neutral a tone as he could manage. “Dr. Gottlieb is my father,” he stated, not bothering to qualify his answer any further. 

After an awkward beat of silence, Newton spoke up.

“Uh… my turn, right? I’m Newt and I joined the Jaeger Academy in 2016. I’m a biologist with a bunch of doctorates from MIT. I really like comics and monster movies. And any kind of 80s or 90s nostalgia. Oh, and I’m kind of a foodie, so if you guys ever want to check out some restaurants off-base, I’m game.”

Hermann puzzled at the way Newton undersold his accomplishments. He seemed to want to move away from his professional experience as quickly as possible and keep his discourse solidly in the realm of the personal. For a man with six doctorates and an impressive and extensive academic record, he seemed more intent on speaking about his inane interests than his professional credentials. Any references to his musical talents were also conspicuously absent.

Post corporate ice-breaker, Ms. Delaine led the group down a number of nearly identical looking corridors, quite reminiscent of the Anchorage Shatterdome in their utilitarian and uniform appearance.

They were given a tour of the lab. The facilities seemed modern enough, despite the layer of rust that was beginning to form on the walls and floors. But there was sufficient space for all five scientists if they organized themselves properly, dividing the lab between biologists and mathematicians.

As the tour progressed, Hermann became acutely aware that Newton was avoiding him. He had an open and friendly manner with everyone else, cracking jokes at the first chance he got, but he had yet to make eye contact with Hermann and clearly positioned himself so as to never be standing within easy speaking range.

Hermann genuinely wanted to clear the air as much as possible. If they were going to share a lab and live under the same large, metal, militaristic roof, they had to sort themselves out somewhat at least.

Ms. Delaine led the team to the mess hall for a mid-morning coffee break before showing them the rest of the facility. Hermann intentionally stalled while getting his tea to make sure that Newton took a seat first in order to take a place next to him. He couldn’t risk sitting down before Newton and allowing him to distance himself as far from Hermann as possible, as he assumed the man would do given half a chance.

When Newton finally took his place at the long table, Hermann caught up quickly and sat next to him.

“Hello, Dr. Geiszler,” he said in a tone he hoped would come across as amicable, trying to steady his nerves.

Although it had been three years since he last laid eyes on the man, he had scarcely changed other than his ever-expanding body art. Light freckles peppered his face, obscured slightly by his perpetual five o’clock shadow and his hair stuck wildly off in all directions. Hermann was fairly sure he donned the same leather jacket today as he had on stage at the concert and at the coffee shop when they’d had their pivotal and uncomfortable rendezvous.

He swallowed thickly. “It’s nice to see you again. You’re looking well.” Hermann kept his voice low to avoid drawing attention to their conversation.

“Yeah, man,” Newton said dismissively, glancing quickly at Hermann before looking away, his tone atypically taciturn. “You too.”

Hermann tried again. “I’ve been keeping up on your publications. Your most recent research paper on kaiju metabolization was riveting and the-”

Newton cut him off abruptly. “You don’t have to make small talk.”

Hermann’s rational mind knew he should withdraw and attempt to speak to Newton again at a later time. Perhaps he’d been surprised to see Hermann here today and needed a moment to adjust to the idea of working and living in close quarters with him. Still, the curt way his colleague was speaking to him was more than a little uncalled for.

Hermann spoke under his breath, his words coming out in a hushed hiss. “I was just trying to be polite.”

Newton turned to look him full in the face, flushing and clearly struggling to keep his volume low. “Oh, you were trying to be _polite_ ?! That's a _first_ for you. Whatever, I figure I’ve got about two minutes before you bail on this conversation too.”

Hermann noticed that they’d drawn the attention of Dr. Lamont who was now looking on with one eyebrow raised. Ms. Delaine and Drs. Chen and Garcia were blessedly engaged in a conversation about something else and failed to notice anything amiss.

Hermann flushed with embarrassment. _Damn it._ This was his first day on the job and he could feel any semblance of a good first impression he may have made on his colleagues circling the drain as his mood soured irreparably.

“Can we have this discussion later?” Hermann whispered, trying to check his tone.

“Whatever, man. You’re the one who brought it up,” Newt countered, turning his back fully on Hermann to chat with Dr. Lamont.

Seeing Newton’s lingering irritation this long after their ill-fated encounter forced Hermann into a moment of speculation. He had played their meeting over in his mind countless times. His actions that day had largely been the result of a confused internal monologue to which Newton was not privy. He could have reasonably expected Hermann to laugh off the mix-up. Or to have at least remained at their meeting beyond ten minutes. Or to have received another letter instead of radio silence.

Hermann knew he owed Newton an apology if he was going to make things right between them. But the conundrum was how to broach the topic of the true reasons behind his swift departure.

_Dr. Geiszler, I’m sorry I left our meeting so abruptly. I realised that I had fallen in love with your exquisite mind through nothing more than the written word to the extent that I was tempted to implode my life and throw away my long-term relationship and hard-won academic job for the sake of the potential of a one-night stand with you. Oh, and by the way, your rock star persona has been the center of the overwhelming majority of my erotic fantasies since my undergrad and I think about your delightfully supple behind pressed against an artfully painted wall practically every time I bring myself to climax._

He heaved an exasperated sigh. It was unclear how he was going to manage a proper apology without revealing far too much distressing personal information. Admitting the truth of the matter would likely result in an even larger issue than the tension between them at present and would be more than inappropriate now that they were directly working together. But saying too little would likely come off as a severely lacking half-truth.

After the tour lab tour, the group was shown the rest of the facility and there was a quick Q&A session before they were each led to their respective quarters to get settled. Given the various states of jet lag, the rest of the day had been left unscheduled.

Hermann sat on the bed in his small room. It was nothing fancy and it was bloody cold irrespective of the temperature outdoors. But it would do. The rest of his things were being shipped from Germany and would not arrive for months so he had taken his essentials in his luggage.

He was over-tired. He knew he should sleep, but also knew he would be unable until he felt a little more at home. He reached into his suitcase and slowly began to unpack and assemble his belongings on the bed and desk.

He wasted no time in hanging up his suit jackets and then refolded and placed his clothing into the small set of drawers in the corner. He had paid a hefty extra fee to fly with overweight luggage for the sake of bringing a variety of reference books with him which he now arranged on the shelves.

Finally, he removed the last item in his suitcase which had been carefully wrapped in clothing as padding and placed it gingerly onto the floor. 

It was the box containing every letter Dr. Geiszler had ever written him.

He sighed heavily. He wished to make amends at the very least for the sake of professionalism. There was damage control to be done, but no clear path forward.

He looked down at the box at his feet and exhaustion swept over him in a heavy wave. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a time, turning the problem over in his mind. 

He opened the lid, pulling an envelope from the top of the pile and reclined on the bed. He had read practically half-way through the entire box when his eyelids began to feel heavy. He nodded off with Newton’s last letter still in his hand. 

***

The first week of the newly formed Kaiju Science team passed by in a blur. After the orientation on Monday and part of Tuesday, the group spent the next day and a half getting their working area set up. Each scientist had their own personal section in the lab with larger communal spaces for collaboration and common areas such as a small kitchenette. There was also an ancient looking couch in the corner which Hermann suspected had been placed there long before and no one quite knew at this point how to get rid of it. 

Dr. Geiszler and Dr. Chen claimed a spot for the xenobiology division closest to a large creaking metal vent and set up a number of fans pointing towards the ducts.

“Best way to keep the smell of kaiju guts and formalin to a minimum for the rest of you,” Newton had explained, clearly savouring the mathematician's collective expressions of disgust.

The biology section was also closest to the decontamination showers for obvious reasons. Despite lab safety protocols, they were at the highest risk of direct contact with noxious gases, juices and whatever else the unpredictable kaiju samples may excrete.

By the end of the week, the group was exhausted and in some cases still slightly jet-lagged. Friday night, Hermann collapsed onto his bed, savouring the quiet and solitude. He did not see any of his colleagues for the rest of the weekend, which was completely fine by him. He knew that once all the equipment was in place and more bio-samples were brought in, things would become busy and entirely free weekends would become scarce.

Most of Saturday, he read and caught up on correspondence before setting about to better organize his things. On Sunday, he got up early and decided to take a look at the gym facilities and get in a small workout to alleviate his cramping leg, which had become increasingly stiff since his arrival. He took his phone containing his music library and set his headphones in place and the playlist to shuffle as he got in a decent session on the exercise bike before doing some stretches recommended by his physiotherapist in Berlin.

Partway through his workout, a Black Velvet Rabbits song came on. Initially he tensed; he thought he’d fully removed the band from his active list some time ago to avoid any reminder of his first meeting with Newton. But he supposed there was not much point doing anything to avoid thoughts of the man at this stage. They would be seeing each other practically every day now, for better or worse.

Plus, he absolutely adored this song. 

He wondered if Newton had brought his keyboard with him to Hong Kong. 

***

Two weeks later, a monstrous kaiju, code name Knifehead, surfaced near Anchorage. Gipsy Danger was deployed to take it down, but not without extensive damage and a horrifying loss. 

Jaeger pilot Yancy Becket did not survive.

The mood in the Shatterdome changed completely. The Jaegers had been faring extremely well against the gargantuan creatures and the collective blow to morale resulting from the unexpected loss of a pilot was immense. A feeling of dread and hopelessness seemed to settle over the world. The mood in the Shatterdome had an added sense of urgency to produce, improve, discover, upgrade. To win. There was a baseline of constant, thrumming panic. Anger, grief, terror; the base ran the collective gamut of emotions.

Yancy’s copilot and brother Raleigh went completely off the grid. The exact nature of the neural bridge formed by the Drift was still largely shrouded in obscurity. It was difficult to map and much of the evidence was anecdotal, almost folkloric. But it was not hard to imagine the trauma a person would face not only witnessing the death of someone so close, but feeling them die while still neurally connected.

It was a delicate topic for the K-Science team. Another terrifying monstrosity had reared its hideous head and the sheer destruction and human loss it left in its wake was always staggering and sobering. 

But a new kaiju emergence also meant novel information, further data for the mathematicians in their mapping and predictive models, new samples for the biologists and the hope that perhaps _this_ kaiju would give them the key they needed to win the war. With every kaiju attack there was, at the very least, the potential that it might be the last.

The first wave of samples arrived soon after. The K-Scientists met the cargo team at the tarmac to oversee the transport. Newton and Alex approached the first vat as the mathematicians stood at a reasonable distance to give them space and observe. Dr. Chen had suggested they accompany the convoy to become familiar with the process if ever either he or Newton were not available to guide the operation. He’d seen a vat accidentally smashed by a less-than-competent tech in Tokyo and swore to never let another good sample go to waste.

Dr. Chen took up the front and led the shipment into the freight elevator. Newton hung back to keep an eye on the batch that would not fit in the first load. He walked around the receptacles, peering inside at the contents, bouncing slightly on his feet in a failed attempt to contain his curiosity and excitement. 

The freight elevator returned and he oversaw the loading before motioning to his colleagues to follow.

The yellow liquid of the vats cast an eerie and sickly looking glow over everyone present. Newton was staring at one of the larger specimens, and said, almost to himself, “Isn’t this incredible? I can’t wait to get back to the lab and get my gloves on.”

Hermann and Kay rolled their eyes at their increasingly excited colleague as Chris laughed slightly and patted Newton on the shoulder. “Calm down there, groupie.”

Hermann stifled a laugh and Newton shot them both a ridiculous pouting frown. ‘Kaiju groupie.’ He’d have to file that one away for future use.

The elevator doors opened and Newton practically skipped down the hall. A team of techs were waiting on the floor to transport the cargo into the lab.

It took ages to get the receptacles assembled and once they were, Newton and Dr. Chen set about creating a meticulous inventory of the samples and making the necessary preparations to begin working on them. 

By the time they finished, it was going for 8:00pm.

Newton stretched, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes roughly with his hand before glancing at the wall clock. “You guys? It’s Friday night, I’m starving and miraculously _not_ sick of all your faces yet.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chris snickered, not looking up from her computer.

“Whatever, you _love_ my face, I’m adorable,” Newt shot back. “Seriously though, we busted our asses this week and we could probably stand to unwind a bit. I’ve got some beers in my room. Do you all want to grab some food and have a few drinks in the mess?”

Kay interjected, “I love the plan except for the food in the mess part. It’s only been a few weeks, but it’s getting a bit boring eating the same stuff all the time.” 

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “We could... order pizza?”

“That’s perfect,” Kay grinned happily. “Are we all in then?”

Hermann noticed Newton subtly glance at him. He had been looking forward to some much-needed sleep and much more needed quiet, but he didn’t want his team to think that he didn’t want to associate with them socially. He’d never been terribly fond of pizza, but if that’s what the group decided, he would go along with it without complaint.

Kay stood up, already with her phone in her hand checking menus.

After a quick topping related discussion that miraculously did not end in carnage (although divided the group definitively between ‘team pineapple’ and 'team no-fruit-on-pizza-what-is- _wrong_ -with-you’), Kay placed the order, everyone pooled their cash and decided to congregate in thirty minutes.

***

Twenty five minutes later, Hermann entered the mostly empty refectory. He’d freshened up slightly and changed into a different sweater. He looked around the room and spotted Dr. Lamont sitting alone at the far end of the hall.

He hesitated and slowed his pace. He hated to admit it but he was slightly uncomfortable around her. She was good-natured enough, if not a little brash, but he’d noticed that her and Newton got on quite well from the get-go and had developed an amiable banter in less than a month on the job together. Newton did not strike him as the type to keep secrets and he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d told Dr. Lamont about his and Hermann’s previous interactions.

Well, it wouldn’t do to linger in the entrance now that he’d crossed the threshold. He approached his colleague and took a seat across from her with a cordial greeting. “Good evening, Dr. Lamont.”

She looked up from her phone and gave Hermann a friendly smile. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb. Any sign of the others?” She turned and looked back towards the entrance behind her.

“Ah, no, not as of yet. I didn’t encounter anyone on my way here.”

“Cool,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “So, I figure we’ve only got a few minutes before everyone gets here, but I gotta ask. What’s the deal with you and Newt?”

 _She wastes no time,_ Hermann thought indignantly. But it likely meant that Newton had not mentioned anything significant to her. He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. He was stalling and they both knew it. “On orientation day... look, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Newt isn’t exactly subtle, you know?”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Hermann said with no small measure of aridity.

She chuckled at this, before leaning back in her seat. “Right, well, it seemed like you guys already knew each other.” She looked at him, clearly waiting for a response.

He had to think fast. Obviously he was not going to get into too much personal detail with a colleague he barely knew. He was also keenly aware that anything he told her might make its way back to Newton.

“We corresponded here and there for a period of time, and met in person once around three years ago when Newton happened to be passing through Berlin,” he stated. That was the truth of it at any rate, grossly misleading understatements aside.

“You know…” Dr. Lamont grinned slightly, inciting a feeling in Hermann somewhere between anxiety and exasperation. “You call everyone else ‘Doctor Last Name’... but you call him Newton.”

Before Hermann could respond, Newton’s voice echoed across the mess. “What up, nerds?”

He sat down next to Chris and set an ancient looking duffle bag with a MIT logo under the table. He looked between Chris and Hermann and said in an obvious stage whisper, “Tell only who you must, but there are beers in the bag. Who wants one?” He’d already grabbed a can for himself. 

Dr. Lamont reached under the table and took a beer in each hand, cracking one open and offering the other to Hermann.

Dr. Garcia and Dr. Chen arrived a few minutes later, carrying two pizzas. Dr. Lamont assembled a few plates from the front counter as Newton distributed the beers. Hermann noticed the envious gazes of a few passing J-techs.

Dr. Garcia cracked her beer can and looked around at the group. “Well, here’s to surviving the week!” She raised the can out in front of her. “Salud!”

Without thinking, Hermann answered, “Prost.” He heard the same word echoed to his right; he and Newton had said it in unison. 

Newton gave him a small, hesitant smile before turning his attention back to the group and announcing, “To the first Friday K-Sci pizza night! I say we make this a weekly tradition.” 

He then proceeded to chug the whole can to the cheers of his colleagues and a few random passersby.

Hermann shook his head and suppressed a small grin. It was the first time he and Newton had exchanged a real pleasantry since he had arrived. It was a tiny light in the dark that perhaps things could be better between them.

*** 

The following night, Hermann couldn’t sleep. The perpetual chill of the Shatterdome had not done his leg any favours and lately it had been bothering him considerably. With the events of the past week, it had been impossible to keep on top of the exercises his physiotherapist in Berlin had assigned him. Sometimes he would wake with a start and a painful cramp and had to do some stretches or pace his dormitory until the ache subsided somewhat.

It had been nearly one month since his arrival, and he wasn’t yet fully accustomed to the impersonal, military style dorm room. He often woke up shivering in the middle of the night and would reach for Lukas’ warmth out of habit before waking up further, the reality slowly coming back to him that he was alone. He told himself it was muscle memory and not sentimentality. But he hadn’t really had sufficient time to process everything that had happened leading up to his departure.

Normally he was able to slowly fall back into a fitful sleep, but tonight he tossed and turned until finally deciding that staying in bed would do more harm than good. He slipped on a pair of woolen pants and his parka, which he had wisely brought with him in his luggage, deciding instead to stretch his leg and get some air. The Shatterdome’s metal corridors were chilly during the heat of the day, but at night they became a veritable ice box.

He grabbed his cane and exited his tiny suite, setting off in the direction of the mess hall. He had a substantial supply of proper tea in his room, but perhaps the concession station might have a peppermint or chamomile infusion that could help him relax and sleep easier.

Each of the stark metal halls looked very much the same, differentiated only by the room numbers painted on them. However, in the relatively brief time he’d spent here, he’d already committed the layout fully to memory, the structure perfectly mapped out in his mind’s eye.

He wandered into the refectory which was empty except for two J-techs sitting at a table playing cards. He approached the counter, located the box of tea and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. He poured hot water over the bag into a small paper cup and slowly made his way back to his room. He blew on the infusion to diffuse the warm steam and took a tentative sip, the liquid heating him slightly. 

As he turned down one of the myriad halls, he began to hear a faint melodic noise. He furrowed his brow and continued as the noise grew louder. It was quiet and muffled by the large metal doors of each tiny apartment, but he was certain he heard the unmistakable sound of piano keys.

He continued to walk as the sound grew louder until he stopped in front of the door from which it came. He strained to hear as the muted melody echoed lightly in the hall through the obscuring metal.

It was beautiful.

He looked to the door. 

_Ah._

He was in front of Newton’s room. 

He felt he should move on, but his feet would not advance. He stood, fixed by the music as the sound, faint as it was, washed over him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on it. It swallowed all other sounds, all other thoughts. Hermann was transfixed, ignoring the chill of the air and the ache of his leg.

He pictured Newton in his room sitting at his keyboard, his attention focused like a laser on the instrument in front of him. 

Whenever Newton spoke, his intense energy was palpable, as his mind produced thoughts clearly faster than his mouth could oblige. But from what Herman had observed at the concert, when Newton played, an intense concentration came over him. He could easily imagine it; the way Newton bit his bottom lip as his lithe fingers deftly danced across the keys. 

Hermann had spent the entire 2017 Berlin concert completely captivated by the man. And here he stood in the metal stillness of the passage, riveted in place by the same trance.

Finally, the music stopped and Hermann realized that he was holding his breath. He waited for another song to start, but there was only silence, save for the occasional nondistinctive echo in the empty hallway, the sounds of the immense structure of the Shatterdome settling. 

Hermann quickly decided that he needed to make his way back to his own quarters, lest Newton emerge from his room. He was cognizant not to allow his cane to impact too loudly on the metal flooring. He reached his room and closed the door behind him, slightly breathless. 

He finished his infusion and lay down on the bed, the music still echoing in his mind as he briefly relived the covert concert he’d attended by chance. A small smile played across his features as he closed his eyes.

He fell almost immediately into a deep sleep, the melody accompanying him as he drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed chapter 4 as our boys get settled into Shatterdome life and meet up again after three years. 
> 
> When I was doing my outline, I realized that I was going to need more original characters. Especially given that this story is entirely from Hermann’s point of view, and therefore it’s not often apparent what Newt is thinking in all this and a lot of that perspective will come out in his interactions with the others. 
> 
> Regarding the K-Sci team themselves, when I was figuring out who these folks would be, I knew I wanted to make sure one of them was from the Latin American region. Almost a dozen Latin American countries have territory bordering the Pacific Ocean, and apparently two Shatterdomes, so it only makes sense that the top scientific talent from those countries would have a real interest in stopping the kaiju. I also wanted to make sure that the female K-Sci members were mathematicians because there is such a gender gap in all the sciences, but the gap for women in mathematics seems even more pronounced.
> 
> Anyway, now we’re swimming in a veritable sea of O/Cs. But as always, the main focus is our boys and how Hermann doesn’t mind freezing his butt off in an uncomfortable military hallway in the middle of the night to eavesdrop on Newt playing his keyboard. I guess Hermann just really, really likes piano music ;)


	5. Rondo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a new shipment of kaiju specimens arrives in poor condition, the K-Sci biologists deploy to Alaska to salvage the bio-harvest as the unprecedented defeat of Gipsy Danger in battle causes speculation about the long term viability of the Jaeger program. Hermann learns he is not the only Black Velvet Rabbits fan in the Shatterdome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes (Spanish):  
> Hermano: brother  
> Muy chistoso: very funny

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb walked into the lab early Monday morning, expecting to be the first one in, but as he approached the door, he saw that it had already been unlocked. 

Dr. Kay Garcia was already there, working away at her desk. She looked up as he entered, expression transforming from intense concentration to genuine affability. 

“Good morning, Dr. Gottlieb,” she smiled at him cheerily. “You’re here early.” 

“Ah, yes, good morning,” Hermann walked towards the small kitchenette to boil the kettle for tea. “As are you, Dr. Garcia.” 

“I’m actually a bit of a morning person,” she smiled in the chipper way that only a morning person can at 7:00am. “I usually get up with the sun, always have. I thought maybe the total lack of natural light in my room would throw off my circadian rhythm but seems like that’s not the case.” 

Hermann was himself an early riser. Throughout his career, he’d often endeavored to be the first one into his workspace to take advantage of the quiet clarity that the early morning brought. Normally, he would be perturbed to be denied his solitary time in the lab, but there was something about Dr. Garcia’s collected presence that he found unobtrusive. He suspected her motives were akin to his; to center herself uninterrupted to better tackle the day’s workload. 

Hermann set about his tasks for the morning and he and Dr. Garcia worked in companionable silence. He figured he had a good hour or so before the rest of the team showed up. 

Once he was ready to begin, he returned quietly to the small kitchenette and poured water over the tea bag in his cup. He went back to his desk while it steeped, making a mental note to retrieve it momentarily. 

About ten minutes later, Dr. Garcia was standing next to his desk holding the mug. 

“You forgot your tea,” she smiled, setting it down gently onto the waiting coaster on his desk. 

“So I did,” he looked up surprised. “Thank you for bringing it, that’s kind of you.” 

“You do that a lot I’ve noticed,” she said cordially. “You make a cup of tea and then you get so engrossed in your work that you forget about it.” 

It had been an old habit of his from university. Nolan and Lukas had both, at different stages in his life, teased him about all the forgotten mugs he left scattered about the apartment. 

“It’s an odd tendency of mine,” he admitted. “I just get absorbed.” 

“I understand completely,” she nodded knowingly. “You get captivated by the numbers and the rest of the world fades away.” 

_Captivated,_ Hermann thought. _That’s the perfect way to describe it._

“Indeed,” Hermann took a sip of his tea as Dr. Garcia went back to her station. She never seemed to feel the need to make idle chit-chat, which he appreciated immensely. 

The rest of the hour passed in productive tranquility until a few minutes after 8:00am like chaotic clockwork, Newton and Dr. Chen burst into the lab in a flurry. 

Dr. Chen was holding a radio and telling whoever was on the other side that he and Dr. Geiszler would meet them at the tarmac in fifteen minutes. 

Newton flitted about the lab, clearing a path from the entrance to the biology section. “We’ve got wave two of the samples incoming,” he half-shouted as he pushed one of the smaller receptacles further into the corner to make room for the new delivery. 

Dr. Chen was clearing off a desk as he signaled across the lab to Hermann and Kay, “Dr. Gottlieb, Dr. Garcia, would you mind accompanying us to oversee the shipment?” 

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Hermann said, standing up and putting on his blazer as Kay nodded and grabbed her bright red bomber jacket.

They followed the biologists down the rusted hallways and to the outside. The glare coming off the ocean blinded Hermann temporarily as his eyes adjusted to the bright, cloudless sky. The platform buzzed with movement as a team guided the descent of several large crates, shouting to be heard over the increasing din of the transport chopper rotors.

The four assembled scientists stood on the tarmac watching the helicopters set down the first cargo container, squinting against the powerful gusts of displaced air. According to Alex’s radio, it was the first shipment of the week, but the Bio-Harvest was ongoing in Alaska, where crews worked day and night to prepare and dispatch the samples in giant receptacles filled with formalin. Newton was bouncing on the balls of his feet, nervous and excited energy palpable as the wind whipped his unruly hair into a state of complete disarray.

Before the rotors had come to a standstill, the cargo crew opened the doors of the crate to let the specialists through to inspect the contents. Hermann and Kay stood back and watched their colleagues vanish into the large metal container as the transport team waited on the tarmac for the go-ahead.

They were gone for mere moments when Dr. Geiszler’s voice, pitched up an octave higher than its usual level could be heard from within. 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” he shouted, his ire echoing off the metallic walls of the crate. 

Dr. Chen emerged seconds later, pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. 

“Wow...” he said, shoulders sagging. “I guess they sent the Bio-Harvester B-team for this batch...” 

Newton’s voice could still be heard from within, loudly yelling a few choice profanities. The transport team exchanged awkward, nervous glances. 

Newton’s small, irate figure exploded out of the container, gesticulating wildly and yelling to no one in particular. “Who the hell was in charge over there?!”

He joined Dr. Chen, heaved an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “Did you _see_ how damaged the secondary brain was?!” 

“What are we going to do?” Dr. Chen asked, looking lost. 

Newton’s shoulders sagged and he whipped off his glasses to rub at his eyes, rage subsiding somewhat into extreme irritation. 

“I dunno, man...” he replaced his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath. “I mean, do we have any way to get in contact to set them straight?” 

“Sure, but will it help? Plus, we won’t know if they’ve made any actual improvements until the next shipment,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, and the second delivery could be just as bad,” Newt agreed. “Or worse, if that’s possible,” he added with mumbled frustration. 

“How long did the status report say the operation was going to take?” Alex asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I mean, I know it takes ages for them to properly extract specimens from the carcass, but how many more days is phase one?”

Newton thought about this for a moment. “Well, the first wave is usually the parts of the organism that break down the fastest, so the brain and the intestines. It's generally around two weeks before they’re no longer viable samples. Luckily they’re in Alaska, so the cold will slow down the decomposition rate.” 

“So, they’ll be working on phase one for at least another week,” Alex said speculatively. 

“Yeah, I mean, they’re fast, but there’s a limit,” Newt stated.

“You know, if we were on site, we could direct them…” Alex said, with the slightest hint of a grin pulling at the side of his mouth.

Newton cocked an eyebrow at the taller man and folded his arms across his chest. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” 

Dr. Chen shrugged knowingly and Newton slowly began to match his grin. 

“Yeah, man. Let’s do it,” Newt said and strode up to the front of the transport chopper as the pilot was disembarking and yelled up at him. 

“Hey, um, dude? I’m gonna need you to power this thing back up and take me and my colleague here to the airport to hop the PPDC cargo plane to Alaska.” 

The pilot looked at him incredulously. “Step aside, kid. I don’t do anything without the Marshal’s say-so.” 

“Okay, stay right there,” Newton nodded to Dr. Chen and they turned and speed walked back towards the Shatterdome. 

Dr. Garcia gave Hermann a puzzled look. “Do we... wait for them...?” 

“Damned if I know...” Hermann sighed, leaning heavily on his cane. “Why don’t you head back. I’ll stay here and see what comes of all this. If you're needed, I’ll call the lab.” 

“Thanks, Hermann,” she smiled, evidently grateful to have been spared the wait. “No offense to Team Bio, but Team Math has better things to do than stand around on the tarmac. I’ll text Chris, she’s probably wondering where we are.”

“Indeed,” he said. “I’ll see you back inside.” 

Hermann stood in the sunlight awaiting his colleagues’ return. While perhaps not the best use of his time, it was nice to be outdoors. Living and working in the same location made it easy to go for days or even weeks without setting foot outside. This served as a reminder that the occasional excursion into the fresh air would probably do him some good. 

He was not certain exactly how much time had passed but just as he was thinking of moving into the shade, Newton and Alex emerged from the Shatterdome. They both had duffle bags and heavy jackets completely incongruous for the outside temperature.

Newton looked around and waved when he saw Hermann and began jogging towards him. 

“Hey man,” he yelled once he was in earshot. “Can you let the others know we’ll be gone a few days?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Hermann asked in mild shock at his colleague’s statement.

“Yeah, we just got permission from the Marshal to supervise the rest of the Bio-Harvest ourselves,” Newton explained. “So, we’re leaving for Alaska. Like, right now. The cargo plane is being held for us.” 

He spun on his heels to go but then turned back to Hermann. “Can you do us a solid, dude? Can you make sure the rest of these shitty samples get to the lab?” 

Well, if his colleagues were leaving immediately, Hermann supposed he hardly had any say in the matter. It was not ideal, but if it meant that the biologists could salvage the Bio-Harvest, then it was the least he could do. 

“I’ll take care of it, Newton,” Hermann affirmed. “Good luck in Alaska.” 

“Thanks, man,” Newt said with a small smile. 

Hermann watched the pilot power up the chopper, listening to his radio with an irritated expression as Newton and Alex hopped inside. Hermann pulled out his phone to text Kay and Chris that they would need to be on the receiving end of the shipment. Once he heard back, he led the transport team to the elevator to escort the samples. 

As the doors closed, he caught a glimpse of the airport-bound helicopter shrinking into the distance over the blindingly bright Pacific Ocean. 

The containers all had the same eerie yellow glow as the previous ones. Hermann looked inside at the viscera suspended in liquid. Truly, they looked not of this earth. 

Although far from his speciality, it was evident that the specimens were not the same level of quality as the most recent batch. Parts appeared mangled and damaged, some with what seemed to be irregular, superfluous cuts and illogical separations.

Drs. Garcia and Lamont met him at the elevators to lead the small convoy into the lab. Chris furrowed her brow at one of the containers, arriving at the same conclusion as Hermann. 

“Is it just me,” she said with her hands on her hips, leaning forward to peer inside, “or are these even nastier looking than usual?” 

“According to our colleagues, they are indeed subpar,” Hermann said in answer.

“Speaking of our colleagues,” Kay said, looking down the hall behind Hermann. “Where are they?” 

“On their way to Alaska to supervise the rest of the specimen extraction process,” Hermann stated. 

“Fair enough, even I can tell these samples look like shit,” Chris raked her hand through her cropped hair, seeming unsurprised. 

“So, I guess they’ll be back in a few days?” Dr. Garcia asked. 

Hermann nodded. 

“Uh, go Team Math I guess?” she raised her fist in the air somewhat hesitantly, her long brown ponytail swishing behind her. 

Dr. Lamont laughed and Hermann couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. At least they’d have some relative quiet before the biologists returned. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to have several uninterrupted days without the intermittent squelching of organ tissue to punctuate the far more subdued keyboard clicks and chalkboard scratchings of the mathematics section. 

Once they had directed the transport team to arrange the samples in the lab in the most unobtrusive way possible, the rest of the afternoon passed productively.

The next day, as expected, video files were uploaded to the protected PPDC server. Following a kaiju encounter, any and all captured footage was sent to K-Science teams around the globe for data analysis. Although significantly more useful for the Xenobiologists, the other sections also reviewed for any additional information that could possibly be gleaned.

Usually the footage observation was part of an analytical scientific process. The Jaegers had been faring well against the kaiju until the last attack, so the footage normally could be viewed impassively and objectively, knowing that the final outcome was in humanity’s favor. But this time was different. The three K-science officers observed the battle in horrified silence. Knifehead did not appear to be the mindless savage that previous kaiju had been. There was something about the way the creature moved, attacked and evaded that seemed almost adapted. Almost calculated. Almost intelligent... 

It was astronomically more horrendous to watch because of the nature of this particular recording; it had all been captured by Gipsy Danger’s head camera. It almost felt as if the confrontation was being experienced first-hand. 

It was the rending sound of metal separating as Knifehead began biting Gipsy’s armor when Hermann felt a cold and nauseating twist in the pit of his stomach. It took everything in him not to be sick. He clutched his cane, hands shaking from the tension, as the footage suddenly cut to abrupt static.

A heavy silence consumed the room. Chris steadied herself on the back of a chair, color drained from her face. Kay sat down heavily on her desk, staring at the floor, trying to process what she’d seen. Oftentimes footage of Jaeger and kaiju confrontations was leaked online. Hermann hoped desperately that if nothing else out of respect for Yancy Becket’s sacrifice, this video would remain only within the PPDC. 

After he finished for the day, Hermann decided to make good on his resolution to ensure he took the occasional breath of fresh air. He needed it after what he had witnessed. The images played over in his head; the metal grinding sound imprinted in his brain playing back over and over. He made his way up to the roof of the Shatterdome. On one side, the sun was setting over the Pacific Ocean, the fading light casting a bright orange haze across the water. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying, knowing what lurked beneath. He imagined once that it must have been common to see boats out in the water but now the bay was largely vacant.

He turned from the water, unable to quell the nausea he felt gazing out at it. He walked to the other side of the rooftop and looked instead over the city, faraway neon bright in the fading light. In the distance, he could see the skeletal remains of Reckoner jutting up against the skyline; the infamous Bone Slums of Hong Kong. 

It didn’t matter which way he turned his gaze. In either direction, reality stared back at him, resolute and unyielding. 

*** 

The following day, the mathematicians decided to take lunch together in the mess hall on Chris’ suggestion that it was healthy to actually leave the lab from time to time.

They were just stepping out the door when Kay’s PPDC email notification sounded. She hesitated, clearly unsure if she wanted to go back and check it or not. 

Chris clapped a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Just go for it or you’ll be thinking about it all during lunch. It’s cool, we’ll wait.” 

Kay jogged back to her terminal. She read for a moment before an expression of concern slowly painted itself across her features. 

“Oh no...” her voice was quiet. 

Hermann and Chris exchanged a glance before joining her at her desk.

“Is everything all right?” Hermann asked, as Chris stood close behind Kay and followed her gaze to the screen. 

“I just got an email from my mentor at Tec de Monterrey, my alma mater. They’ve had a PPDC joint research program there for years,” she said, looking dismayed. “Well, she just wrote that it’s been shut down! She was really senior there, so she’s being transferred to the Shatterdome in Panama, but all the junior staff have been laid off.”

“What?!” Chris asked. “Did she say why?” 

“She said they were told, uh... resource reallocation...” Kay said, dazed and trying to process the information. 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Chris said, furrowing her eyebrows. 

Hermann wondered about his old team at TU Berlin. 

“From what Dr. Flores is telling me, there are rumours of an alternative solution...” her eyes skimmed the screen as she read. 

“An alternative to what? Jaegers? What does that even mean?” Chris asked skeptically. 

Hermann took a seat at his computer and after quickly sending an email to one of his former coworkers in Berlin, took a look in the PPDC database to try and find any mention of funding decisions. There was nothing.

“I don’t see anything in the records,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him as he typed. 

Chris cocked an eyebrow. “Hold on, I don’t have access to the database. Do you?” 

“In a manner of speaking,” Hermann said, looking at her over his reading glasses. 

“Dr. Gottlieb, I didn’t know you were a secret hacker badass,” Chris nodded at him appreciatively. 

“Yes, well, if they didn’t want information to be accessed, they should set up a better protocol to prevent it,” Hermann stated matter-of-factly. 

At that moment, he received a notification that his email had bounced back as undeliverable from his colleague. Apparently, the address had been deactivated. He would have to follow up on this. 

“I’ve got a few buddies around the PPDC network,” Chris took a seat at her computer and began rapidly typing. “I’m gonna reach out to some folks and see if they know more.” 

They ended up taking a late lunch. As they sat at the refectory table, their conversation was sporadic and distracted as they spent the time mostly engrossed in their phones, anxiously searching for any further information. 

That evening, Hermann sent a message to his colleague’s personal email address. He didn’t hear back until the following day when he learned that his former joint venture team at TU Berlin had been completely disbanded. 

_It seems that the unprecedented defeat of Gipsy Danger has caused some speculation regarding the long-term viability of the Jaeger program,_ his colleague wrote. _It’s my understanding that an undisclosed Pacific nation has revoked funding to divert it into other forms of research for alternatives to the Jaeger Program._

*** 

The mathematicians heard from their Xenobiology colleagues for the first time since their departure in the form of an absurd series of photos sent to their group text chain.

The first three were of what one could only presume were Drs. Geiszler and Chen in full hazmat suits doing over-exaggerated pin-up poses accompanied by the caption FOR THE SEXY K-SCI CALENDAR OBVIOUSLY. DON’T FIGHT IT. IT’S HAPPENING. 

The last photo was a selfie of Newton and Alex with their respirators off in a hermetically sealed room making ridiculous faces. 

Hermann shook his head sighing. “The level of professionalism never ceases to amaze,” he said with no real venom behind the words. 

“Looks like Newt has totally corrupted Alex,” Kay chuckled. 

“Aw, you know,” Chris said, looking at the phone fondly. “I thought a bit of silence without a formalin headache was gonna be great, but I miss those ridiculous bastards...” 

“More importantly, who is taking the first three pictures?!” Kay laughed, her hands on her hips. 

At lunch, Kay returned to her quarters and came back to the lab with a compact sound system. After tinkering with it for a few minutes, soft music pleasantly began to stream out of the speakers. 

“I was thinking,” she said, gesturing to the device. “It’s been a little bit of a terrible week and we could probably use a pick-me-up. I don’t know about you guys, but I like listening to music while I work. I thought maybe we could set up a playlist roster on rotation.” 

“That’d brighten the mood for sure,” Chris nodded, before turning to Hermann. “You on board?” 

“Certainly,” Hermann nodded. “I agree we could use a distraction after multiple days of destabilizing news.” 

Although he usually listened to music without lyrics while he worked, as long as the volume was kept low enough to be ambient, it would not be a problem. And if ever it was, he’d had the foresight to bring his noise cancelling headphones in his luggage. 

Dr. Garcia had them each input their playlists from their devices. 

Hermann double checked his list to confirm the absence of any Black Velvet Rabbits songs. Newton would be back in a few days and it would be highly unusual to have one of his band’s songs randomly come on especially given that Hermann had far from cracked the code of his colleague’s level of willingness to divulge this particular detail of his personal life. 

On the surface, Newton seemed quite amenable to talk frankly and openly about himself. However, Hermann could not recall a time when Newton had ever mentioned the band around his colleagues. At least, not in his presence. It was always possible that he avoided the topic around Hermann, given that the concert had technically been their first meeting and the following day had almost been their last. Either way, it would not serve to agitate matters by bringing it up. 

Kay put her playlist on first, an eclectic mix of rock and 80s; a decent portion of it in Spanish. Hermann quite enjoyed a number of the songs and Kay was more than delighted to give him the names of the artists so he could look them up later. 

She had been right; the addition of music to the lab brightened the mood and passed the time. The remainder of the day flew by quickly. They were all getting ready to leave when their cell phones vibrated in unison. Chris made it to hers first and flipped it over to check the text. 

“The boys are back,” she announced. 

Although the mathematicians were done for the day, they seemed to collectively decide to wait for their colleagues and no one made an effort to leave. 

About twenty minutes later, Newton burst into the lab in a whirlwind of receptacles, assisted by the transport crew. An astonishing variety of containers were brought in behind him and Dr. Chen followed soon after with the last of the convoy. They signed off on the inventory before Newton turned to the rest of the K-Science team. 

“You guys! YOU GUYS!! Alex _killed it!”_ Newton announced to the room. “You should have seen him bossing people around like a... like a... _boss_. It was the most goddamned beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!” 

“I was just giving them the... necessary guidance,” Dr. Chen said with an air of modesty but puffed up slightly at the praise. 

“Like a badass!” Newt smirked. “Also... is this a thing now? Are we listening to music in the lab?” he gestured vaguely towards the location of the speakers. 

Kay spoke up, “Yeah, I set up a sound system and we have a rotating roster!” 

“Sweet!” Newton enthused. 

“You two both wanna add a playlist?” Kay asked. 

“Damn straight!” Newton nodded. “Hope you guys don’t mind if I throw some heavy stuff on there.” 

Hermann sighed internally. He'd always had eclectic taste, but he had a feeling the musical leanings of his colleagues were about to combine into a random jumble of unpleasant proportions. 

“No objections from me,” Chris said, making a metal hand sign. Newt gave her a fist bump.

 _Well, the pleasant ambiance had been nice while it lasted..._ Hermann thought. 

*** 

When Hermann left the lab that evening, Newton and Alex were still cataloguing their samples. He went to the mess hall to grab a late supper, bringing the tray back to his room as he got set up for a video call with Nolan. 

Since Hermann had left Germany, Nolan had sent him several messages to check in. He and Natalie had been incredibly gracious to let Hermann stay with them before his departure and he knew he owed them a decent update beyond what he’d sent in the occasional hurried email or text, so they’d set up a call for a proper catch up. 

The line connected and Nolan and Natalie’s grinning faces popped up on screen. Their excited expressions were infectious, and Hermann found himself smiling back. It was good to see them. 

“Hermaaaaann,” Nolan said, drawing out his name with chipper enthusiasm as Natalie waved her hand at him cheerfully. 

“Nolan, Natalie, it’s so lovely to see you both. How are you?” Hermann asked. 

“Oh, yeah, great,” Nolan glanced over to Natalie and smiled at her fondly. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’re doing really great. Like, _super_ great.” 

“How’s Hong Kong?!” Natalie asked, genuine interest clear in her tone. 

“Work is good,” Hermann responded. “Hectic, as I’m sure you can imagine, but good. As for Hong Kong, to be honest, I don’t get out into town much. The Shatterdome is rather self-contained and with professional pressures, I haven’t seen much of the city.” 

“Fair enough, bro,” Nolan nodded. “You must be crazy busy. What’s your team like?” 

“They’re a good group, true experts in their respective fields. It’s been invigorating so far,” Hermann said. Despite the variety of personalities, they did have a solid collaboration. 

“And are you all any closer to saving the world?” Nolan asked, tone suddenly serious. 

This was perhaps the most difficult part of being associated with the PPDC. The hopefulness tinged with anything from apprehension to obvious fear with which people asked about his work. Despite efforts to live normally, in this world such as it was, the thrum of potential destruction was ever-present. Hermann gave the tried, tested and true answer he always used in response to this particular line of questioning. 

“We are making progress,” he said simply. 

That seemed to suffice, and Nolan flipped back into his usual, casual demeanor. “Okay, we wanna hear all the team gossip. What are their names, first off, so I don’t have to keep saying ‘the team’ all the time?” 

“Drs. Christina Lamont, Kay Garcia, Alex Chen and...” the name caught in Hermann’s throat for a moment. He wondered how good his friend’s memory was for this level of personal detail. “...Newton Geiszler.” 

“Newton Geiszler...” Nolan thought for a moment, trying to place the name. “Like... as in your old pen pal Newton Geiszler?” 

Apparently better than Hermann would have guessed. 

“Nolan, we were not _pen pals_ ,” Hermann said with corrective emphasis. “We were colleagues who corresponded.” 

“Hermann, you sent each other handwritten letters that you kept in a _box_ under your _bed_ ,” Nolan said, quirking an eyebrow. “You were pen pals.” 

Natalie giggled at this and Hermann sighed slightly. “Well, whatever you care to call it, we’re working together now." 

“And how’s that going?” Nolan asked with suave curiosity. 

Hermann was unsure how to answer. His interactions with Newton still felt... strained. There had been some progress, but the rift created by their first meeting had clearly not been traversed. 

“It’s... it’s good,” Hermann managed lamely. “He is truly someone I admire.” 

“Hmm,” Nolan considered this for a moment. “That’s a typically vague Hermann-style answer. What’s he look like?” 

“Why does that matter?” Hermann sputtered, thrown off-kilter by the question. 

“To see if he sounds like your type or not,” Nolan shrugged. “I mean, Hermann, can I be honest with you for a sec? Remember the way you used to rush to open letters from him when the mail came? Then you’d go lock yourself in your room for, like, hours. And after you moved out and a couple letters arrived at my place before he got your change of address you came, like, _i_ _mmediately_ to get them every single time.” 

“Aww,” Natalie grinned sweetly. “That’s adorable.” 

Hermann didn't know what to say to this. 

“I mean,” Nolan continued. “Even before you told me you were into dudes, I figured you were at least into _him_.” 

Hermann was stunned and beginning to think that his friend was far more astute than his often frivolous demeanor would suggest, but had it been that obvious? He wondered if Lukas had suspected the same. He had certainly joked about it, but now Hermann questioned if perhaps Lukas too had deduced more than he let on. 

Natalie blessedly broke the awkward silence. 

“Hermann, I’m so sorry, I’m just heading out to meet up with a few friends, so I’ll leave you boys to it, but I wanted to say hi and see your face!” 

“It’s been wonderful to see you, Natalie,” Hermann said, noticing at once she’d had a coat on the whole time. “Take care.” 

She gave Nolan a big kiss on the cheek and exited camera left. Nolan grinned widely and waved at her. 

“She pushed her friend-date back half an hour so she could see you,” Nolan smiled, turning back to the camera. 

“She is a lovely person, Nolan. You seem to be very content together.” 

Hermann saw his friend strain his ears for a moment as he heard the distant sound of the front door clicking shut. He then leaned into the camera slightly and dropped his volume, his voice markedly conspiratorial. 

“So, look, bro. I’m kinda planning a thing, and I wanted your opinion. I know Nat and I haven’t been together that long, and I’m not saying right away, but I want to ask her to marry me.” 

“Nolan, that’s tremendous news. I’m happy for you both,” Hermann said in earnest. 

“Well, hold on now, you haven’t heard the plan. I’m thinking that we could go on vacation somewhere and I could propose... maybe, like, a really rad international city where she’s always wanted to go where I have a cool friend who could show us around?” 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Hermann asked with a grin. 

“I mean, if it’s no trouble,” Nolan winced slightly. 

“Of course it’s no trouble,” the words were out of Hermann’s mouth before he even had time to contemplate them, surprising himself with his lack of hesitation. Nolan had been an excellent flatmate and a good friend and he and Natalie had saved Hermann from what would have been a truly wretched last week in Berlin without their intervention. “Did you have any idea when?” 

“Not before next year for sure,” Nolan answered. “I’ve got to save up a bit but I wanted to check with you and give you tons of lead time, obviously. I know you’re super busy, but they must give you days off, right?” 

“Yes, and frankly it would mean I don’t have to go back to Germany on vacation. It’s the perfect excuse to avoid my family,” Hermann said. Other than Karla, who was residing in the UK for her Masters, he had little interest in that particular scenario. 

“Wow, so I’m basically doing you a favor then,” Nolan laughed. “Well, TBD for the rest. And you’ll have to introduce us to the infamous Dr. Geiszler when we come!” 

Hermann froze for a moment. 

Well, that would be a complication. 

Nolan and Natalie would recognize the keyboardist of their favorite band in a heartbeat. He risked accidentally revealing Newton’s identity via his friends. And given that the Black Velvet Rabbits seemed to be the only detail of Newton’s personal life he consistently omitted when speaking to his colleagues, he could easily extrapolate that Newton would be less than keen on being outed as Doc. 

However, now that he had mentioned Newton’s name and Nolan had made the connection about their prior correspondence, it would be terribly awkward _not_ to introduce them. 

This would need further contemplation... 

He scrambled to come up with an answer to fill the now protracted silence. 

“O-of course,” he managed, trying to recover after his too-long pause. “He has to travel quite a bit for official business, but hopefully the timing will work out.” 

Hermann winced imperceptibly as he deftly laid the foundations for a convenient lie. This was admittedly atypical behavior for him but if it meant keeping Newton’s band persona a secret, it was well justified. 

After the call, Hermann lay in bed staring at the ceiling contemplating the conversation. It didn’t serve to overthink it he supposed. It was unclear when or even if the visit would happen. He would deal with it if the plan actually materialized. 

It was getting late and he knew he should turn in. 

Then again, perhaps a short walk would do him good and clear his thoughts. He took up his cane and soon after, found himself wandering in the direction of the refectory. He’d given up telling himself it was for a peppermint infusion. But it was a sufficient cover if ever he had to explain his wanderings. 

As he walked towards Newton’s room, the familiar melodic sounds drifted gently out into the hallway. He hesitated momentarily before quietly taking a seat on the top step outside Newton’s quarters. 

He had given up on standing in the hallway and only savoring a few minutes before hastily retreating. He had listened covertly to a number of these late-night concerts and knew that Newton did not emerge from his room after the fact and the halls of the Shatterdome were reliably dead quiet at this hour. At any rate, if anyone should see him and question it, he would simply say that he had been taken with a spell of vertigo and had needed to sit. 

He rested his head gently and soundlessly on the cold metal of the door. The songs flowed one into the other. Newton started off with an array of classical pieces. Hermann’s heart swelled with the beauty of the muffled notes. He then moved on to what Hermann assumed may have been his own compositions before playing a selection of Black Velvet Rabbits songs. 

He wondered absently who in the band was the main composer. The more he listened, the more he felt certain in his assumption that Newton was a large part if not the driving force behind the band’s music. 

He was abruptly brought out of his thoughts and back into the moment as he heard Newton singing under his breath. Hermann exhaled and closed his eyes to listen until the sound faded into silence and the hallway was once again quiet in the stillness of the night. 

*** 

When Hermann walked into the lab early on Friday morning, he was greeted by the sounds of squelching. Newton was elbow deep in some kind of blue-tinged kaiju viscera, chatting incessantly to Alex who nodded subtly as he carefully dissected a specimen with clean and precise incisions. 

Alex greeted Hermann without taking his eyes off his task. Newton, looking positively elated, took a gloved hand out of the mound of bio-gunk and waved at Hermann, goop dripping onto the examination table with a disconcerting plop. 

Hermann sighed loudly and proceeded to the kitchen to make the first of the day’s many cups of tea. So much for an early start and a quiet morning. 

He snuck a surreptitious glance across the room at Newton. His colleague was almost vibrating with excitement. Hermann had to admit, it was ever so slightly endearing. 

He hadn’t previously thought too much about it, but of course, in order for Newton to gather data, he would have to get his hands dirty. Back when he and Hermann had begun their correspondence, he had not really imagined this aspect of Newton’s work, being so different from his own. But he looked very much in his element. It occurred to Hermann that he’d always imagined the Dr. Geiszler of the letters era as a theoretic academic, which was absurd now that he examined the thought. He covertly watched the man revel in his tactile task. 

Newton and Alex were riding the excitement of their last minute journey and salvage of the Bio-Harvest. Their energy was palpable and infectious and the entire team finished Friday off on a high note. 

At 7:00pm sharp, Kay looked around the room and asked. “So... pizza in the mess again?” 

“Well, yeah!” Newton looked scandalized. “K-Sci pizza night is a time-honored, sacred tradition!” 

“This is the second time we’ve done it, Newt,” Chris deadpanned. 

“Whatever, I know what I said,” he shot back at her. 

Alex was already half-way out of the lab. “See you in thirty!” 

*** 

When Hermann entered the refectory twenty-five minutes later, Chris and Newton were already there. Chris was wearing a blue U of T sweater and ripped jeans and Newton had slightly damp hair and was wearing a black t-shirt with ‘Be Gay Do Crime’ in bold white letters and an assortment of wrist cuffs in addition to the leather bands he seemed to never remove.

Newton generally wore long sleeve shirts in the lab and although he frequently rolled them up, safety protocol dictated he use thick, latex gloves which largely obscured his tattoos. Witnessing nearly the full length of his bare arms in a t-shirt was still slightly disconcerting to Hermann, who was never quite prepared for the sight. The bright swirling colors vanished up beyond his short sleeves and the images seemed to shift and undulate with every movement on the lean tone of Newton’s forearms and biceps. 

His colleagues were speaking in low, hushed voices and giggling slightly, as they tended to do, and he saw that one of them had grabbed a couple beers from somewhere and they were getting a head start. 

Hermann took a seat next to them and the conversation abruptly stopped. Chris continued grinning and Newton seemed to be blushing slightly. 

_How delightfully awkward,_ Hermann thought with no small degree of ire. 

“Please, carry on, don’t stop on my account,” Hermann offered with a somewhat stiff tone. 

Newton looked embarrassed. “Hey dude, uh, nah, we were just...” he trailed off. 

“We were ranking that group of J-tech boys over there on a number scale of hotness,” Chris stated without the slightest hesitation. “Apparently, Newt likes tall guys.” 

“Well, taller than me anyway...” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and staring at his beer can. 

“Luckily that’s not hard,” Chris teased and ruffled his hair affectionately. 

Hermann glanced at the group of assembled J-tech officers. One of them was looking over at their table and appeared to be arguing with his workmate about something. 

“Strange,” Hermann furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t look now, but their attention seems to be focused on our group as well.” 

Newton opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Alex and Kay’s arrival. Alex was holding two large pizzas and Kay had a case of beer under her arm. 

“We come bearing gifts,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows as she set the cans down onto the long table and adjusted her glasses.

They took a seat, portioned out the pizza and beers and the second K-Sci pizza night was underway. Newton immediately launched into animated stories about Alex’s ‘bad-assery’ overseeing the Bio-Harvest operation. 

“I’m serious, guys, you shoulda seen him. He never raised his voice even once but he had the crew scrambling around like ‘yes, Dr. Chen,’ ‘we’re sorry, Dr. Chen’, ‘thank you, Dr. Chen.’ He literally told an entire group of adults he was ‘very disappointed’ and they _thanked_ him afterwards. That’s some kind of goddamn _superpower!”_

Chris was laughing uproariously and Kay was chuckling and shaking her head as Alex sat silently with a subtle grin plastered on his face, guiltlessly enjoying the retelling. 

“They just needed a little... recalibrating,” he nodded serenely. 

“See?! He’s doing the face! I’m telling you, the man is some kinda superhero or supervillain or something,” Newt grinned at the group, leaning forward on his elbows. 

Throughout the recounting, Hermann kept one eye on the assembled J-techs. There had been more than a few beers consumed collectively, and their group was starting to get a little boisterous. Two of the men were still clearly talking about their table. He hoped this was not going to amount to anything. 

Finally, one of the techs, tall with broad shoulders and dark blond hair began to stride over in their direction with a look of determination. 

Hermann quickly tapped his hand on the table to call attention and spoke in a hushed tone of warning, “Incoming.” 

Before anyone could react, the man was standing at the side of their table, his features set in a stern look of resolve. 

The scientists went completely silent, staring at the man with a look of collective strained tension. Alex was the first to speak. 

“Sorry if we got a little rowdy, we’ll keep it-” 

“Are you Doc?” the man cut him off abruptly, staring down at his feet, mumbling slightly. 

Everyone quickly exchanged confused looks. 

Kay spoke up, “Um... you’ll have to be a little more specific... we all have doctorates...” 

“No, I mean,” the man shook his head and looked right at Newton. “Are you Doc from the Black Velvet Rabbits...?” 

“Oh,” Newt looked surprised. His eyes flicked quickly to the baffled glances of his colleagues. “Yeah, I, uh... I am.” 

The man’s expression changed completely, any prior sternness melting away into pure excitement. “Oh my god! I _knew_ it! See, I was arguing with my buddy over there whether it was you or not!” 

He turned his head and shouted back to one of the guys in the group, “You owe me five bucks, Tendo!” 

He spun back, suddenly noticing the looks on the faces of the K-scientists. “Oh, oh no. You guys saw me march over here all intense. I’m so sorry, I was just nervous.” 

“Is anyone else not following _any_ of this?” Alex asked slowly. “The black-velour-what-nows?” 

“Black Velvet Rabbits,” Newt corrected him. “It’s a band name.” 

Everyone waited for him to elaborate. 

He didn’t. 

“And... you were a member?” Kay tried to prompt. 

“Yeah, I mean... yeah,” Newt trailed off. 

Chris turned to him with an expression of mock betrayal on her face. “Why, Newt? WHY?! We’ve been working together for over a month now, and you _never once_ mentioned you were in a band!” 

“Well, you never asked!” Newt retorted. 

“Why would I randomly ask if you were in a band?!” Chris yelled, arms flailing.

“I just kinda keep that stuff separate I guess, it’s not a big deal,” Newton tried to seem casual, but Hermann could sense his obvious discomfort. He thought back to orientation day. Newton had not mentioned anything about his musical affinity, despite it clearly being a huge part of his life. He’d suspected that this was a topic that Newton avoided and the unfolding situation more than confirmed his conjecture. 

Chris waited for him to say more, but as nothing further was forthcoming, she asked, “So, like, were you famous?” 

“Nah, we had some fans and stuff, but we... had to go on hiatus when I joined the Jaeger Academy. We only played a few shows after that.” Newt’s expression tightened for a moment, a small gesture that would have been lost without the context Hermann possessed; fleeting if he hadn't known to look for it. But to Hermann, it could not have been more obvious.

It was the unmistakable flash of regret. A yearning perhaps for what could have been. 

In typical Newtonian fashion, he recovered almost instantly. He turned to the J-tech who was now shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Sit down, my man! There’s some extra pizza left if you want a slice. And we have beer.”

The J-tech's eyebrows shot up. “Really? Hey, thanks!” He took a seat next to Newton, unintentionally but awkwardly displacing Chris who gave the rest of the group a side look somewhere between amusement and irritation. 

“My name’s Ethan, by the way,” the man said, as Newton passed him a beer. 

“Call me Newt. And this is the rest of the cast, Chris, Kay, Alex and _Hermano_. Your friendly neighborhood K-Science team.” 

“Hermano,” Kay laughed. “Muy chistoso, Newt.” 

“For god’s sake, Newton,” Hermann rolled his eyes and turned to Ethan. “Please ignore him. I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. It’s nice to meet you Ethan.” 

Ethan obviously had no idea how to interpret the group dynamic, but was enjoying himself, looking pleased as he grabbed a slice of pizza and gladly took the beer offered to him. 

At first, he made a real effort to participate in the central banter, but as the night wore on and the beer supply was nearly spent, he unabashedly turned his full attention to Newton and they sectioned off into a private conversation. 

Hermann tried to follow the main group’s discussion, but was completely and utterly distracted by the overheard snippets of Newton and Ethan’s exchange. Ethan was clearly a fan and made no effort to hide his adoration. 

After midnight, Alex and Kay decided to turn in, going their separate ways to their respective rooms. Chris was obviously trying to stick it out until the end, but it must have become apparent to her at some point that Newton and Ethan were lost in their own world of music, monster movies, 80s-90s nostalgia, classic video games and comic books. 

Hermann had also tried to remain as long as possible, telling himself he was just trying to be social with his coworkers. But when Chris finally decided to call it a night, Hermann took the opportunity to bow out as well. 

Newton and Ethan barely acknowledged their departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The K-Sci adventures continue! The team is getting settled into Shatterdome life and K-Sci pizza night is now a weekly thing. Hermann learns he is not the only Black Velvet Rabbits fan in the Shatterdome… and Nolan and Natalie are back! I just enjoyed writing them so much that I’ve kept them in the story via video chats and a possible future Hong Kong visit…
> 
> A note about Newt’s “Be Gay Do Crime” t-shirt. It’s meant to be a little nod to one of the stills of Newt from his drift scene where he is at some kind of protest. I feel like that quick little cut told us a lot about Newt’s personality and values, even though we don’t know exactly what kind of activism he was involved in. But for me, that canonized Activist!Newt, so having him wear a LGBT rights slogan shirt just seemed to make sense.
> 
> Also its placement in the K-Sci pizza scene was intentional, demonstrating that he’s totally comfortable showing off his controversial tattoos, proclaiming his sexuality and wearing a politicized slogan all in one go, but isn’t comfortable talking openly about his band because of the loss of something he loved that it represents for him.
> 
> Also, yup, the J-tech Tendo who owes Ethan five bucks is totally Tendo Choi. I think I’m messing with the timeline a little having him in Hong Kong at this point, but hey, maybe he’s on a temporary duty.
> 
> Anyway, if you’re still reading, then thank you so much! I genuinely hope you’re enjoying reading this as much as I’m loving writing it. Lots more to come!


	6. Fugue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An accident in the K-Sci lab forces Hermann to risk putting his incrementally improving working relationship with Newton in jeopardy when he insists on bringing his colleague to the medical bay. Upon discovering that Newt is dating a J-tech officer, Hermann has to come to terms with the possibility that his relationship with Newt may never go beyond professional.

It was Saturday morning and Dr. Hermann Gottlieb decided to head to the Shatterdome gym and do some stretches and cardio. He had used the hectic work pace and fact that he was still getting used to his routine in Hong Kong as a reason to avoid going for a while, but he knew that it wouldn’t do his leg or his overall health any good in the long term. The gym had been intimidating the first few times; he had never considered himself athletic and many of its regulars certainly were. But after several visits, his self-consciousness gradually wore off.

As he stepped into the cardio section, he noticed Dr. Chen in the corner of the facility using one of the squat racks. He thought to go over but Alex had a look of intense concentration on his face and around 150kg on the rack, so it did not seem proper to interrupt him. 

Hermann proceeded to the recumbent bike and put on his workout playlist. He had reinstated the Black Velvet Rabbits into his collection and one of their songs came on first. 

He finished his thirty-minute session and on the way to the mats to do some stretches, he crossed paths with his colleague. 

“Hermann,” Alex smiled, wiping his brow with a sports towel. “This is the first time we’ve run into each other here.” 

“Good morning, Dr. Chen,” Hermann returned the greeting. “I’m sorry for not coming to say hello, I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“I appreciate that,” he said after taking a swig from his water bottle. “Not everyone’s gym etiquette is as good as yours. Is this your regular workout time?” 

“If I am being completely honest, I have let it slide for a while. But I intend to be more consistent,” Hermann asserted as much to himself as to his colleague. 

“That’s excellent,” Alex nodded, and hesitated slightly. “Usually I stick around longer than this, but I have a Skype call with my kids in twenty minutes and I need to get cleaned up. But if ever you want to train together, let me know.” 

Hermann was not aware that Dr. Chen had children. He filed through his recent memories but was sure his colleague hadn’t mentioned anything before now. He glanced quickly down to Alex’s left hand to ascertain his marital status. 

“My wife and I are separated,” Alex offered by way of explanation. “My girls are living with her. I’m trying to sort out a time when I can get back to visit them, but our schedule has been intense lately. So, the video chats will have to do for now.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Hermann said. He wondered if his colleague’s situation had been somewhat like his own; whether Alex had put saving the world before his relationship like Hermann had. 

“It's okay, I’m managing,” he stared at a spot on the wall, lost in thought momentarily before recovering and turning to go. “Well, nice to see you, Hermann.” 

“You as well.” 

*** 

The K-Sci team had collectively taken Saturday off, but they were back in the lab on Sunday. Hermann and Kay were predictably the first ones to arrive. 

As Hermann walked in, he noticed a familiar sight on Newton’s desk, recognizing the product immediately from his years living with Nolan. 

It was a box of Count Chocula cereal with a card taped to it.

Chris appeared shortly after, followed almost immediately by Newton, who approached his workspace and, looking confused, removed the card and started to open it. Chris was promptly standing right behind him with her mouth askew in a half smile and he jumped with a start. 

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. 

“I dunno, Chris,” Newt said with a tone of playful frustration. “Maybe give me two seconds to actually _read_ the damn thing.” 

Alex entered the lab moments later and nodded approvingly. “Hey, is that Count Chocula? I used to love that stuff as a kid.” 

“Yeah, me too, but it’s really hard to find these days,” Newt said, distracted, as he took the card out of its envelope. “When the import store actually has it, it’s not cheap.” He read for a moment and a small, private smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

“So...” Chris hadn’t moved from her position. “Who’s it from?” 

“Uh, it’s from Ethan,” Newt said, picking the box up and turning it over in his hands. “I must have mentioned I liked it at some point on Friday.” 

He took the cereal to the kitchen announcing, “I’m gonna have a bowl right now. Anyone else?” 

Everyone but Hermann happily accepted. 

Newt cocked an eyebrow, “You’re the odd one out, man.” 

“I am fine with that,” Hermann said indifferently. “Frankly I don’t understand how you could possibly enjoy that rubbish.” 

“Dude, my probably problematic escapist love of 80s nostalgia supersedes all things,” Newt effused. “Anyway, have you even tried it?”

“No.” 

“Then how do you know it’s ‘rubbish’?” Newton countered, with a mocking, exaggerated R roll. 

“My former flatmate used to eat it on the regular,” Hermann justified with a cavalier tone. 

“Well, he sounds way cooler than _you_ ,” Newt taunted. “Or you know, at least less _judgy_.”

“Fine,” Hermann sputtered, taking the bait. “Give me a bowl then.” 

The five scientists sat around the small table in the kitchenette as Newt portioned out the contents of the box into mismatched bowls. 

“I must really love you guys to be sharing my spooky vintage cereal gift,” Newton muttered amiably as he grabbed the milk from the fridge, poured out a portion and passed it around.

“So, how late did you all end up staying on Friday?” Kay asked, scooping up a huge spoonful of cereal. “When Alex and I left the four of you chatting away, it was after midnight.” 

“Hermann and I called it a night not long after you two,” Chris said, turning to Newt. “How long did you and Ethan stay after we took off?”

He thought for a moment, “I guess until two or three...? I don’t really know.” 

Alex looked confused. “Uh, sorry, who’s Ethan?”

Chris shot him an incredulous look. “The hot J-tech who was fanboy-ing over Newt Friday night.” 

“Oh, _that_ guy. Right,” Alex nodded. 

“Come on, lay off, you guys,” Newt said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “He just likes my music. Unlike the rest of you jerks.” 

“YOU NEVER TOLD US YOU WERE IN A BAND!” Chris retorted, yelling at full volume in exasperation. “How were we supposed to... ugh, whatever. So, are you gonna see him again?” 

“Yeah, after I’m done in the lab today. He said he knows a really good noodle place not far, ‘Chau’s’ or something like that, so we were gonna check it out.” 

“That’s adorable,” Chris smiled and put her arm around Newt’s shoulders affectionately. 

“Whatever, it’s not a thing. We just have a lot in common,” Newt said with a nonchalant wave of his hand before turning his attention to Hermann who was working through his first bite of cereal. “So? You like it?” 

“It is...” Hermann grimaced, “...the sweetest thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of putting in my mouth.” 

“Okay, well, pass it here then,” Newt said, rolling his eyes at his co-worker as he reached for the bowl. “I’m not gonna let it go to waste.” 

*** 

At the end of the work day, Ethan showed up to collect Newt. He stood at the entrance quietly not wanting to disturb any of the team. 

“Oh hey, dude!” Newt looked up from the dissection table. “Just give me five.” He packed away his samples and started to wash up. 

“Hi Ethan,” Kay called to him musically. “You don’t have to stand in the hallway, come on in.” 

Ethan looked surprised and happy to be invited in and made his way over to the couch, sitting and watching Newt flit about the lab with unconcealed fondness. 

Hermann didn’t miss the way Newton bounded over to him, or the way Ethan stood up and put his hand on Newton’s shoulder and let it linger. 

As they exited the lab together, Newton’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Just let me get changed super quick and we can grab the shuttle into town.” 

After they had left, the team began to clean up for the day. Hermann felt distracted and discontented. He knew he had utterly and completely quashed any chance for a close relationship with Newton when he’d made his precipitous exit from their first meeting. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed witnessing his colleague’s potentially amorous interactions and it felt like his own interpersonal failures were being magnified. Newton had known Ethan less than a week and he appeared to delight in the man’s presence. Whereas, although Hermann had made an effort to be cordial, he wasn’t truly sure where he and Newton stood; their history lying between them like an impassable rift. It was a painful reminder of the connection they’d had during their letters era that now seemed unsalvageable. 

Hermann was standing in the kitchenette washing his tea mug grimly lost in thought when Chris approached him.

“Hey Hermann, how are you doing?” she asked in what was clearly her best attempt at nonchalance, leaning against the counter. 

“Hello Dr. Lamont. I’m well, thank you.” 

He inferred why she was here but had no desire to speak about his predicament, much less to a coworker.

“No, I mean. How are you doing with the whole... _situation?_ ” she gesticulated vaguely in the direction of the exit. 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Hermann said, tone coming out considerably more rigid than he intended. 

“Look, I know it’s none of my business,” she said carefully. “But if you ever wanna talk about it...” 

“There is nothing to talk about,” Hermann said quickly, absently drying his mug on an ancient looking dish cloth. 

“Okay,” she said, looking hurt before averting her gaze and turning to go. “Sorry I asked.” 

Since orientation day, he’d had a difficult time getting a read on her and was never sure if she was being sincere or intrusive. But seeing her expression now made him think it was more likely the former. Perhaps he’d misjudged her.

“Dr. Lamont,” Hermann called after her retreating form. She stopped and half turned back towards him. “My apologies. I do genuinely appreciate your concern...” 

She smiled hesitantly at first. “Do you want to grab a tea together in the mess?” 

“I would be delighted, as long as we talk about anything other than the _situation_ , as you put it.” 

Chris gave him a nod and Hermann grabbed his cane and they exited the lab together. 

“You got it, Dr. G.” 

*** 

Hermann rolled over and checked his clock. It was going for midnight and his insomnia had taken hold again with a vengeance. It was a bit past the time that Newton usually played his keyboard, but on the off chance that he was still up, Hermann might at least hear the end of his session. He wasn’t going to fall asleep soon at any rate, so he got himself together for a quick wander. It was late enough that he did not need to seek out an infusion from the mess as a cover; the Shatterdome would be dead still at this hour. 

He approached Newton’s room with habitual caution, making sure that his footsteps and cane were not amplified by the passage which seemed to augment even the tiniest sound. 

He carefully walked down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of Newton’s room. He listened intently but he did not hear any of the usual melodies drifting through the door. Given the late hour, it was likely he’d missed the session entirely and Newton didn’t play every night. There had been several times when Hermann had passed by, slowed his pace, heard only silence and moved on. 

Just as he was turning to go, he became aware of a noise from within and he froze. At first, he could not quite interpret the sounds and stood momentarily perplexed. 

It was some kind of rhythmic thumping. The pace quickened and he suddenly heard Newton’s voice gasping in ragged staccato followed by a muffled cry. He heard another, lower voice moaning in concert. 

Hermann realized with horror what he was hearing. He hurried back down the hall as quickly and quietly as he could, half running until he got to his room, flung himself inside and closed the door behind him in a single, swift motion. 

He could feel the heat rise in his face from the exertion and embarrassment. His heart was racing from the adrenaline of the retreat and he felt a twist in the pit of his stomach. _Dear god,_ he had not meant to invade Newton’s privacy like that.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to parse the distressing, jumbled torrent of everything rushing through his mind. 

Hermann knew full well the interpersonal damage he’d done the moment he stepped outside of that Berlin coffee shop. He had dismissed Newton thoroughly and his colleague had moved on with his life. It was a logical outcome that could have easily been anticipated. 

But he recognized that a small part of him had, on some level, entertained an absurd fantasy that the connection he’d felt with Newton during their correspondence would somehow supplant his mistake. That era felt even more distant now than he could have ever thought possible. 

Hermann decided to take a shower and launched himself off the bed abruptly. He stripped prematurely and stood shivering in the cold. When after a few long minutes the water had heated up to above a lukewarm temperature, he stepped inside and felt the chill begin to dissipate. 

It occurred to him that he could no longer in good conscience pass by Newton’s room hoping to hear him playing his keyboard. An accidental invasion of the man’s privacy was one thing but to return to the hallway outside Newton’s room after tonight would be inexcusably inappropriate. He realized morosely how much he had come to treasure the covert, private concerts and the prospect of the loss sent a wave of misery through him. 

Hermann stood with his hands against the wall of the shower, heavy droplets cascading down his back and pooling around his feet as they swirled towards the drain. He realized with a frisson of dread that there was another, new and uncomfortable presence beneath the surface, far more questionable than his meld of embarrassment, melancholia and loss. It was a feeling he’d rarely encountered his life but he knew it for what it was immediately. 

As the water washed over him, so too did the acute sting of jealousy. 

*** 

Hermann flushed unwillingly when Newton skip-stepped into the lab the next morning about half an hour after everyone else had arrived. He was holding a tray of cups from a to-go gourmet coffee shop that was not far from the Shatterdome. 

Kay looked up as he set the container down on her desk. 

“Heeeey, nice,” she smiled. “Thanks, Newt. What’s the occasion?” 

“No occasion, I’m just a really nice guy,” Newt shrugged, as he delivered the beverages around the room. 

“Seems suspicious,” Alex didn’t look up from the microscope he was peering through. “What did you break?” 

“Alex, my man, that’s offensive,” Newt stood next to him, latte in one hand, other hand on his hip. “What, I can’t just treat my colleagues and spare them the crap Shatterdome coffee once in a while? I mean, do you want this caffeine or not?” 

“Yup. Preferably intravenously,” Dr. Chen deadpanned. 

Newt passed Chris her latte with a high five and came last to Hermann. As he put the paper cup down on the desk, Hermann could instantly smell the vanilla and bergamot wafting up. 

“I, uh...” Newt looked up at him over the rims of his glasses. “I know you’re not really a coffee guy. You like London Fogs though, right?” 

Hermann furrowed his brow trying to recall if he had ever mentioned this and couldn’t determine when he may have. 

“I do, Newton, thank you,” he said, perplexed. “How did you know?” 

“Meh, lucky guess,” Newt shrugged. 

Hermann noticed his colleague had some kind of beverage for himself with whipped cream on it when he remembered their Berlin meeting. Newton had ordered an absurd chocolate monstrosity and Hermann had gotten a London Fog. He was shocked that Newton had remembered such an infinitesimal detail.

“So, how was the noodle place last night?” Kay called across the room. “As good as everyone says it is?” 

“Uh...” Newt hesitated and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “We ended up just staying in and ordering take-out.”

“Ohhh, so _that’s_ why you’re in such a good mood,” Chris said, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Hermann braced himself for the inappropriate comments he was sure would follow and began mentally writing an email to Ms. Delaine in the HR section. But to his surprise Newton just shrugged, pulled the sample he was working on the previous day out of the cooling chamber, snapped on his latex gloves and stated with an unmistakable little smirk, “Like I said, just treating my colleagues.” 

Dr. Chen was getting set up for a dissection when he heard his email notification ping. He carefully set down the specimen he was about to work on and made a quick detour for his computer. A look of concern flashed across his face for a moment before he gestured to Newton. 

“Dr. Geiszler, check your email.” 

Newton put down his scalpel and approached his terminal, eyes scanning the screen. He exchanged an uneasy look with Dr. Chen, who was standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. 

“Alex, can we talk for a sec?” he asked. 

The two scientists conferred for a few minutes out of earshot of the rest of the group. 

“Everything okay, Team Bio?” Kay asked hesitantly when they returned. 

“Yes,” Alex nodded with an unreadable tone. “Just adjusting the plan for the week.” 

“Way to be cryptic,” Chris muttered under her breath to Hermann. She was entirely correct; it was uncharacteristic of either Newton or Alex to be evasive. 

He surreptitiously watched Newt replace the specimen he had recently taken out and maneuver himself into what Hermann recognized as a level three biohazard suit. He walked into the chilled storage area and emerged moments later holding a receptacle containing one of the newly arrived samples of Knifehead; possibly a section of its tongue based on its eerie blue iridescence. Footage of the creature had shown a grey body with yellow lines like a map drawn on its skin, but its mouth had glowed an uncanny cerulean.

Newton disappeared into the hermetically sealed room at the far end of the lab for hours. The rest of the team worked away in relative silence, save for the background rhythms of the ever-present K-Sci lab music roster. 

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a yell from inside the containment room and Hermann turned to see Dr. Chen rushing towards it. He grabbed his cane and sprinted across the room to join his colleague, followed closely by Kay and Chris.

On the other side of the glass, Newton was sprawled on the floor. He’d clearly backed up from his workstation, hit the shelving unit behind and fallen. The front of his biohazard suit was covered in a dripping, viscous blue liquid. He stared down at himself as mucilaginous globules oozed from his personal protective equipment and pooled on the metal flooring. 

Dr. Chen began yelling and waving his arms erratically, trying to coax Newt out of his stupor. “Dr. Geiszler! Decon shower NOW!” 

He didn’t move. Chris sprang into action, beating on the shatterproof glass with both fists. “Move your little ass, Newt! Don’t make me come in there and drag you out!” 

Newton started and snapped out of his daze, picked himself up off the floor and dashed into the decontamination shower, which had a direct entrance from the room. The team stood outside the containment area, frozen in place with nervous uncertainty. 

“What was that stuff...?” Kay looked to Alex, her voice quiet and tinged with fear. “It wasn’t _Blue_ , was it?” 

“No, the specimen toxicity was nothing on the level of Kaiju Blue,” Dr. Chen assured her. 

Several tense minutes passed with only the sound of running water and the occasional profanity from within. Finally, Newton emerged from the decon shower with only a towel around his waist, hair dripping wet. Hermann averted his eyes hastily as the beginnings of a blush crept up the back of his neck. As he had suspected, Newton’s tattoos did indeed continue up his arms; both were covered in full sleeves, the design tapering off on the sides of his pectorals in a way that suggested it would be continued onto his chest in the future. 

“Well, my clothes are fucked,” Newton stated decisively, running a hand through his damp hair. “And I punctured the damn suit when I fell, no clue how the hell I managed _that_. I put it in the sealed bin, hopefully it’s salvageable.” 

“Did your skin come into contact with the fluid at all?” Dr. Chen asked evenly, but his concern was apparent as he intently examined his colleague to identify any obvious burns or lesions. 

“No, I’m good,” Newt shifted his weight onto his other foot. “But, uh... could someone grab my spare clothes?” 

Kay sprang into action and jogged to the locker area, returning with a small fabric pile and handed it to him. He pulled the privacy curtain across and got changed, emerging moments later in a faded and threadbare ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon’ t-shirt and ratty jeans with holes in the knees. 

“What exactly happened,” Alex asked without the inflection of a question. 

“I was making an incision in the sublingual fold and my scalpel hit resistance. I should have pulled back, but I kept slicing and nicked some kind of fluid pouch and it sprayed back at me. It totally caught me off guard and I tripped. I think I might have twisted my ankle a little bit.” 

Newt reached down to gingerly prod his lower leg area and Hermann noticed him shiver slightly. The water in the decon shower was always kept at regulation lukewarm temperature and with Newton’s thin t-shirt and the perpetual frigidity of the lab, it was not surprising he had a chill. 

Without thinking, Hermann whipped off the sweater he was wearing over his button-up; black with a green and grey argyle pattern. He thrust it into Newton’s arms, who stood for a moment staring at the piece of clothing he found himself holding. 

“Thanks, man,” he murmured and looked up at Hermann with a small askew smile before pulling the sweater on. The sleeves were too long and almost entirely covered his hands, leaving only the tips of his fingers sticking out. He looked down to appraise his wardrobe addition before hugging his arms around himself protectively.

“Lucky for me, you happened to be wearing the only half-fashionable sweater you own.” 

Hermann rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Beggars and choosers, Dr. Geiszler. Now come along, I’m taking you to medical,” he stated firmly, grabbing Newt’s wrist without thinking. 

“No, man, not necessary. The stuff was mildly toxic, sure, but I was wearing a biohazard suit and I didn’t come into direct contact with-” 

Hermann cut him off abruptly. “Newton, this is not a negotiation. It’s protocol and you may have done more damage to your ankle or god knows what else than you realize. And you said yourself the suit had a small rip from your fall.” 

Hermann didn’t miss the shocked and somewhat indignant expression that graced his colleague’s features. Their interactions had been such a delicate balance up to now and Hermann had been trying to avoid any kind of disagreement in the hopes of smoothing things over. There was a very real possibility that his insistence on forcing Newton to do something he didn't want to would undo any interpersonal progress he may have made.

Well, if that was the case, so be it. Newton could be agitated at him if he wanted; it would hardly be the first time he’d been on the receiving end of his colleague’s ire. But he’d be damned if he was going to let Newton shrug off his own health. He would physically drag the man to the med bay if necessary. 

“Well, let’s get this over with then,” Newton huffed. He looked down at Hermann’s hand on his wrist. “I’ve got work to do.”

Dr. Chen had called ahead and the medical officers were expecting their arrival. Hermann sat in the waiting room as the team performed the standard array of tests and verifications for a potential biohazard incident. Newt had been uncharacteristically taciturn during the intake process so Hermann had taken it upon himself to mention his colleague’s possibly twisted ankle, earning him a seething glare. 

An hour later, Hermann was permitted to enter the room where Newton was being monitored. He stepped inside and sat on a chair in the corner, setting his cane against the wall before leaning forward and interlacing his hands together. 

Newton was sitting up on the medical bed with his legs stretched out in front of him, an apparatus hooked up to his left hand recording his vitals. He was staring at the wall in front of him, annoyance apparent on his face. Hermann waited for Newton to acknowledge him. Finally, his colleague looked at him, silent and sullen, which Hermann took to be as much of an invitation as he was likely to get right now to begin his inquiries. 

“Newton, what was the nature of the substance you were dealing with?” he asked. “I have never seen you, Dr. Chen or anyone else wear a level three biohazard suit when working with specimens in the lab. I thought you had methods of chemically inactivating your samples.” 

“We do. I just take lab safety _really_ seriously,” Newton said, with no small measure of caustic irritability. He had his arms crossed in front of him, the long sleeves of the borrowed sweater completely obscuring his hands from view. 

“Newton...” Hermann began with an edge to his voice. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” his colleague asserted dismissively. “Uh, biology stuff, pretty technical.” 

“Try me,” Hermann said flatly, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. 

Newton heaved a dramatic sigh before explaining. “The samples still had trace toxicity levels. The method we use to neutralize them fully has an optimal incubation time of three weeks.” 

“But you got those specimens less than two weeks ago,” Hermann said, unable to hide his bewilderment. “So, why were you working on them already?” 

His labmate was silent.

“Newton...!” Hermann raised his voice, feeling his patience dwindling. He was going to get to the bottom of this and would not tolerate the man’s reticence to disclose whatever it was he was trying to hide. 

Newton stared at the floor and wouldn’t meet Hermann’s eyes, hugging his arms around himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was smaller than Hermann had ever heard it. “We were told to have a report ready with our initial analysis three days from today.”

“And did you tell them that you needed more time for the specimen to be safe to work with?”

Newton avoided the question. “J-tech is doing an analysis of the patterns of Knifehead’s... bite marks on Gipsy Danger. Certain aspects of the sustained damage were not consistent with other Category III kaiju, so they wanted a full oral analysis on its tongue and teeth by Friday. Dr. Chen was gonna do the teeth, and I was in charge of the lingual report.” 

“Did you or did you not tell them that you needed more time to fully detoxify the samples?” Hermann reiterated as he tried to maintain his composure to keep his voice steady. 

“Well, no...” Newton had chosen a corner of the room to stare at intently. “But they told us that it was urgent... and... that they needed the data this Friday _._ I confirmed with the assay kit before I started working on it that the toxins were mostly neutralized.”

Hermann sat in stunned silence. 

“But not completely,” he confirmed and Newton nodded in response. 

“Why did you not explain the situation? It was only a matter of a week in the difference,” he asked. 

“A pilot _died,_ Hermann,” Newton frowned at him with truculent defiance. “I wasn’t going to tell them to wait an entire extra week for our report. I took the proper precautions and anyway, I didn’t put anyone else at risk.” 

“Anyone but yourself,” Hermann snapped back. 

“I did a cost-benefit analysis, Hermann, don’t think that I didn’t.” 

“And yet, here we are in the med bay.” 

Newton’s breathing was heavy. The machine he was hooked up to beeped furiously as his heart rate soared above baseline. He glared at Hermann with a petulant spite that would have carried more weight were he not doing so in an oversized sweater. Hermann was uncertain if his colleague was going to persist in his recalcitrance. 

Eventually Newton exhaled a long breath, apparently withdrawing for the time being. When he spoke again, his voice seemed marginally calmer than it had moments ago. “They... needed the data. The samples were _mostly_ detoxified and I have an impeccable lab safety record. The risk was minimal and nothing bad happened.” 

“Yes, Newton. _This_ time,” Hermann tried to keep his tone even despite the growing desire he felt to shake some sense into the man in front of him. “This time you got lucky and managed to avoid being seriously hurt. But what about next time? You have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and an underdeveloped sense of self-preservation.”

Newton looked at him for a long time before nodding slowly. Hermann sighed slightly in relief. He had been expecting another biting remark, but Newton seemed to acquiesce somewhat, although he would never vocalize it. 

“I think sometimes that... you don’t fully grasp your value, Newton,” Hermann felt a lump begin to rise in his throat. “You would not exactly be... easy to replace.” 

At this, Newton hugged his knees to his chest and said nothing. His heart rate had returned to normal. 

After a long pause, he spoke, turning his gaze again to the featureless metal panels of the room. “You know, I’ve been working on something to more efficiently remove toxins from samples... but I've kind of hit a wall with it...” 

“It is a new method?” Hermann inquired. 

“Yeah, well... based on established techniques, but automated. It’s a machine actually. I’ve got some electronics know-how thanks to my uncle, but it’s not my speciality. But if I could get it done, then this just wouldn’t be an issue anymore.” 

“So, one of the few remaining subjects you do not have a PhD in?” Hermann said with a crooked grin. 

Newton tried not to smile but ended up chuckling slightly despite himself. 

“Would my background be of use?” Hermann asked. 

His colleague gave him a perplexed look. He swallowed and clarified, “Could I help you with it?” 

Newton blinked at him a few times. He licked his lips tentatively. “For real? You’d help me?” 

“Of course I would. I wish you’d asked sooner,” he said, his mouth twitching upward. 

“But... it’s not your section’s mandate...” Newt said cautiously, implying what Hermann already knew. Any contribution he made to the project would likely have to be extracurricular to avoid diverting time and energy away from the math side of K-Science.

“Well, you’re not asking for budget from the mathematics section. Just my assistance, which I am happy to give you. After work hours if need be,” Hermann stated in answer, adding before Newton could protest. “Now get some rest. I’m going to head back to the lab and let the others know that you’re alright.” 

He picked up his cane and stood up to leave the room. When he got to the door, he heard Newton’s voice behind him.

“Hermann...” 

He turned around to look at his colleague. Newton appeared almost vulnerable with his arms around his knees, alone in an ill-fitting, borrowed sweater in the small, windowless room. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Hermann smiled and nodded.

He stepped outside of the entrance to the medical bay and almost collided with Ethan, who had clearly been running at full speed down the hallway. 

“Dr. Gottlieb!” Ethan half-shouted in surprise, as he reached out quickly to make sure Hermann didn’t topple over from the sudden impact. “I’m so sorry. Um, is Newt okay?!” 

“Yes, he’s had a rough day, but he’ll be fine,” Hermann said, putting a steadying hand against the wall. “He did not come into direct contact with the substance and it had only mild toxicity levels. The medical check is just a precaution.”

Ethan looked relieved and thanked Hermann who stepped aside to let the larger man pass. He turned briefly to see Ethan’s well-muscled arms scoop Newt’s much smaller frame into them as he whispered something. Newton closed his eyes and let his head rest on Ethan’s shoulder. 

Hermann swallowed a painful lump in his throat. He left as quickly as possible to avoid overhearing any snippets of conversation that he should not. As he walked down the hall, he heard happy laughter behind him. He steeled himself and kept walking. 

Newton returned to the lab the following day. Kay and Chris incessantly asked if he needed more time to rest, but he asserted that he had a report to finish. He and Dr. Chen exchanged a determined glance and got to work.

Newton retrieved his pocket recording device from the sealed room and transcribed the data he had obtained. Thankfully, he’d gotten what he needed moments before the ill-fated incision. Dr. Chen had completed his portion of the report in the interim and had done what he could on Newt’s section, and they sent off the data by the Friday deadline.

As soon as Newt had finalized and emailed the report, he proceeded to comically dance-wiggle over to Dr. Chen’s desk to give him a cathartic fist bump. 

He turned to address the rest of the group, slightly giddy. “K-Sci ladies and gents, esteemed nerds, may I have your attention please? Following this week’s series of unfortunate events, I have a prescription for pizza and beer from the med bay that I need your help filling.”

“Oh, I placed our usual order fifteen minutes ago,” Kay answered back without looking up from her work. 

“Special Kay, you are my favorite person,” Newt smiled. 

Before leaving, he sauntered over to Hermann’s desk, shuffling his feet slightly before speaking. “So, uh... I was gonna work on that project we talked about tomorrow. It’s Saturday and all, so no pressure. But I was planning to come to the lab around 10:00am.” 

Hermann felt a small wave of relief that Newton was serious about taking him up on his offer to help. He smiled up at his colleague from where he sat. 

“In that case, I will be there tomorrow at 10:00am sharp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s a wrap for Chapter Six! I hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know the K-Sci Five a little better as they bond over Count Chocula.
> 
> Full disclosure, I do not have a science background in any way, shape or form but I wanted to include some content that sounded at least reasonably science-y. I did some research to try and add a smidge of authenticity but I hope it doesn’t come off as totally bonkers.
> 
> Regarding Ethan, I’ve gone so far back prior to canon that it seems completely unrealistic that Newt would not date at all for the duration of the early Shatterdome years. Although Jealous!Hermann is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I really just wanted to see Hermann and Newt repair their relationship and start to move forward without Hermann being motivated by a potential romantic entanglement. 
> 
> At any rate, I promise that Newmann is the destination, I’m just apparently taking the scenic route to get there and I hope that if you're reading this, you're enjoying the view!


	7. Forte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt takes Hermann up on his offer to assist in the creation of a machine to efficiently remove kaiju toxins and they start to work in close collaboration. Newton demonstrates his unusual method for staying positive during the apocalypse as Hermann attempts to set things right between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes (Spanish):  
> -ito: diminutive to indicate affection/small size  
> Mi corazón: literally ‘my heart’, meaning ‘my dear’

At exactly 10:00am on Saturday, Hermann walked into the Kaiju Science lab. Newton was already there getting set up, headphones on, nodding along to his private rhythm. He was dressed casually in tight black jeans with more zippers than seemed strictly necessary and a light grey, faded Godzilla t-shirt, which Hermann supposed was not in any worse taste in this day and age than his tattoos. 

He looked up and removed the headphones when his colleague approached his workspace. 

Hermann skipped the pleasantries and cut straight to matter at hand. “All right, walk me through what you have so far,” he said, setting his cane down and leaning on the side of Newt’s desk. 

“Right, well I’m calling it the Milking Machine and-” 

“Is that name final?” Hermann cut him off, with a look of mild disbelief. 

“Uh... yes...? Why?” Newt appeared perplexed. 

“It makes it sound like some kind of bovine...” he started as Newt cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, never mind. It’s your project,” Hermann said, waving a hand. 

"Right, so the issue is not our current methods of detoxification. We worked out a solid procedure a while ago, which is honestly pretty cool because the kaiju are silicone-based, so the technique had to be adjusted. None of the physiology of these guys works like anything on earth and-” 

Hermann cleared his throat subtly. 

“Heh, sorry. I get excited,” Newt grinned a little, halting his unrestrained gesticulations and putting his hands squarely on his hips. “The problem is the long incubation time. Like I was telling you before, it normally takes close to three weeks to neutralize our samples. And the process is... kind of manual? I want this machine to do it for us, and do it faster.” 

Hermann crossed his arms and confirmed. “And you want my help with the mechanics of the apparatus itself.” 

“Yeah, exactly. My uncle showed me the basics of electronics when I was a kid and I’m also kind of self-taught. Trust me, I can haul some random junk together and make it do a thing. But I don’t want this to be a Frankenstein job, you know? Ideally, I want something more sophisticated that can be replicated and used in other Shatterdomes.” 

“So, you want to simplify the design, reduce incubation time and standardize the results,” Hermann reiterated. 

“You got it,” Newt nodded. 

“And do you have a timeline?” Hermann asked. 

“The sooner the better, I guess. But I want to do it right.” 

“I believe you said once that you prefer a longer timeline if it means improved accuracy.” 

“Yeah!” Newt’s eyes lit up before he quickly averted his gaze, looked down at the floor and almost appeared to be blushing slightly. “You, uh... remember me saying that, huh?” 

“Well, it made an impression on me,” Hermann began to walk towards his desk to gather supplies. “First we’re going to need a proper blueprint.” 

"Great, well, let’s get on that.” 

Newton spent the rest of the morning explaining exactly what he’d managed to work out and the roadblocks he’d encountered thus far. Not for the first time, Hermann marvelled at his colleague’s analytical approach and his ability to logically fill in data gaps and plan around unknowns. 

Once they both had a game plan for the afternoon, Newt strode across their workspace and turned on the speakers. Moments later, piano music reverberated off the metallic walls of the lab. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand hovering above the dial in case Hermann indicated he would rather work in silence. 

“It’s perfect,” Hermann said, inhaling deeply as he closed his eyes briefly to take in the sound. 

“You mentioned once you always worked to piano music. So, I figured this would help.” 

Hermann was reminded just how well Newton knew him. He had always been private by nature and kept his social circles small. But he opened up to his colleague in their letters in a way he never had before to anyone else. Mostly in an intellectual sense, but he also recounted details about other aspects of his life. It had just seemed easier to write about such things than try to share them with anyone in person. 

In a sense, the very fact that their interaction had been written made it simpler than communication in real time. Their correspondence had always given Hermann a sense of security, but it wasn’t just that; Newton had revealed details about himself and his life to Hermann as well. He often found himself wishing that they could go back to that style of communication which had allowed them to project the best versions of themselves. 

He thought back to the physical letters sitting in a box in his room. He’d tried so many times since their truncated meeting to write to Newton, to try and explain, try to rationalize, all while concealing the more personal details of his internal maelstrom the day they’d met. It had proven too complex an equation for even him to work out. 

But maybe he was overcomplicating matters. He had been so absorbed in the idea of justifying himself that he started to wonder if he hadn’t perhaps lost sight of the reason he wanted to write in the first place. He genuinely missed Newton and the bond they’d shared. When it came down to it, perhaps an elaborate explanation was not necessary. Perhaps a simple apology would suffice... 

When he was sure Newton was completely engrossed in his work, Hermann observed him quietly for a moment. Despite his labmate’s propensity to jump from one thing to another, when he was absorbed in a task, he gave it incredible focus and meticulous precision. It was fascinating to witness him in action. 

The hours seemed to pass rapidly and at 6:00pm sharp, Newton’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, read the message and smiled, quickly typing something back. 

He called over to Hermann. “Chris says we’re workaholics.” 

“Well, we probably _should_ wrap up for the day,” Hermann admitted. He had a scheduled call in an hour and still needed to have dinner. 

“Oof, you’re right. I completely lost track of time,” Newton removed his glasses to rub his eyes. “I almost forgot I’ve got a video call with the gang in a little bit.” 

“The gang?” Hermann asked. 

“The band,” Newt said. “We have a group chat every couple of weeks. They kept me sane back in Boston and they’re keeping me sane here too. Anyway, it’s not for a while, so you go ahead, I’ll clean up.” 

“Are you certain?” Hermann confirmed. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

Hermann packed away his materials, retrieved his cane and was about to exit the lab when he heard Newton’s voice behind him. 

“Hey, uh... Hermann?” he hesitated slightly, standing with his hands in his pockets, mouth twitching upward slightly. “Thanks for today.” 

“It was my pleasure. I think we’re off to a decent start.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” 

Hermann grabbed a quick and simple meal from the refectory and brought it back to eat in his room. He needed the time alone to recharge slightly before his video call with Nolan. He often read while eating, but today he sat in the quiet of his room, enjoying the silence. 

When 7:00pm rolled around, Hermann got himself set up with his laptop and, seeing Nolan was already online, initiated the call. 

“Hermann! What’s up, bro? How is everything?!” his slightly pixelated friend beamed on screen. 

“Nolan, it’s nice to see you. Things are quite fine. Busy, but fine,” Hermann said and felt a rare twinge of homesickness. Their punishing schedule barely allowed for socialization outside of the Shatterdome confines. He’d not spoken to his little sister in weeks and made a mental note to schedule another Skype date with her before month’s end. 

“So, look, I’m gonna cut straight to the chase,” Nolan dove in without preamble. “I wanna visit you in Hong Kong with Nat around your birthday. Would that be weird?” 

“Not at all,” Hermann replied. “That would be excellent timing. I’ve not taken any leave yet and despite the borderline apocalyptic era we find ourselves in, HR gets surprisingly cantankerous about vacation carried over to new fiscal.” 

Nolan laughed at this. “I haven't told Nat yet, because I wanted to check with you first, but she’s gonna be so stoked. About the trip, I mean, obviously the whole popping the question thing is a secret. Plus, I miss you, bro! It’ll be great to hang out and I really wanna see where you work! I’ve never been in a Shatterdome before, and I seriously doubt I’ll have the chance again given that I live nowhere near the Pacific. Is that a thing we can do?” 

“I will confirm, but I believe they offer tours of nonrestricted areas. The program receives public funding, so there is an initiative to educate people about our efforts.” 

“Right on, so I’m thinking ten days total. Fly in on the Friday and take off the following Sunday. Do you have any recommendations for a place to stay?” 

“There’s a hotel fairly close by and I believe we have access to a corporate rate for friends and family,” Hermann affirmed. “I'll send along the details.” 

“That’d be sweet, bro. Thanks. This is gonna be rad! Once I get the info, I’ll look into booking. And hey, I guess I should start looking for a ring!” 

*** 

It quickly became a Saturday tradition and every week Hermann met Newt in the lab at 10:00am to work on the Milking Machine project. Sometimes when things were slower during the week and they had several unoccupied hours, they would make progress, but it was undoubtedly easier without the external distractions of a regular day. 

Hermann found that he immensely enjoyed working one on one with Newton. He had been initially nervous that the arrangement would be tense, however their interactions increasingly felt much easier than they once had. It wasn’t always harmonious; the man chattered incessantly and had no hesitation opposing Hermann about anything he remotely disagreed on, but ultimately, they had a solid collaboration and Hermann was fine with being challenged intellectually. He could more than handle it and Newton’s unconventional and quick mind kept him on his toes and forced him to re-examine problems and adjust his approach. 

The proof was demonstrable. The project was coming together rapidly. 

His colleague’s speciality was very obviously biology, but Hermann marveled occasionally at Newt’s proficiency working with the machinery. He was, rather irritatingly, a natural at it and learned quickly from Hermann what he had not already puzzled out for himself. 

Occasionally the other K-Sci members would pop in to say hello or work on their own projects. Sometimes Ethan would come by and bring them caffeine, or convince Newt to take a proper lunch. Hermann hadn’t been certain at first if their relationship went beyond the physical, but seeing them interact together, it was clear that there was some degree of sentimental attachment that Hermann preferred to push to the depths of his mind rather than dwell on. 

Hermann wanted to dislike Ethan but he was kind to Newton and polite to Hermann, making it frustratingly difficult to find legitimate fault with the man. Hermann knew that any sense of antipathy in Ethan’s direction was based on a petty and unjustified possessiveness. Newton had opened that potential door long ago, and for better or worse, Hermann had slammed it shut. That was the choice he had made and it had been the most logical one at the time, regardless of how he may be feeling about it now. 

If Hermann begrudged Ethan anything it was that he was no longer able to pass by Newton’s room since the embarrassing night a few months back when he had overheard them together. He missed being able to hear Newton play his keyboard; had come to rely on the piano music coming from his colleague’s room to help him fall asleep. And there had always been a secretive intimacy to it. Now those private concerts were a memory he could not relive. 

*** 

“You know what I miss?” 

Newton sat on the floor of the lab with his legs crossed, balancing a mess hall tray on his knees. It had been several productive months since they started and they were getting closer to a working prototype. 

“What’s that?” Hermann asked, slouching over the tray perched on his lap as he sat in the middle of the couch. 

“Homemade food,” Newton sighed into his mashed potatoes which may or may not have been powder at some point in their tragic existence. “This stuff is fine-ish. I mean, boring and repetitive as hell, but fine-ish. But when was the last time you had something home-cooked?” 

Hermann considered this a moment. “Now that I think of it, not since Berlin,” he reflected. _Not since living with Lukas..._

“If you could have any meal right now, what would it be?” Newt asked, looking up at Hermann from his position on the floor. 

He considered this a moment and answered after a pause. “Pasta.” 

“Really? But you can have that in the mess every Tuesday." 

“Yes, but I’m talking about _fresh_ pasta,” Hermann corrected. “Lightly sauteed with basil, butter and peppercorns in a wine sauce with caramelized onions.” 

“Good lord, dude, stop, I’m _salivating_ over here,” Newt joked, placing his hands over his ears emphatically. 

“I believe pasta was the last proper meal I made at home, come to mention it,” Hermann added, thinking back to his second last week in Berlin. He clearly remembered making his specialty for Lukas when he returned home from his conference. He recalled darting quickly back to the kitchen so as not to burn his caramelizing onions. He found the thought did not hold the same sadness it once had. He turned it over in his mind and observed it with surprising impassivity, as if it had been someone else’s life. 

“Sounds like you’re quite the chef, dude. You said that on orientation day, right? That you liked cooking,” Newton said, sliding his unappetizingly soggy green beans back and forth on his plate with his fork and a look of mild disdain. 

“Yes, it was a passion of mine, but it is hardly possible now,” Hermann sighed, setting his tray aside and turning the question back over to his colleague. “What about you? What do you miss?” 

“Definitely breakfast,” Newton answered without hesitation. 

“Breakfast?” 

“Yeah, man, best meal of the day,” Newton looked off into the middle distance, apparently visualizing the objects of his culinary affection. “Eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, waffles, you name it, I love it all.” He sighed fondly before standing up and walking over to place his tray by the door, adding as he set it down, “I actually make half decent waffles, for the record.” 

He stretched upwards, interlacing his hands behind his head. His shirt rode up momentarily exposing the pale skin of his midriff. 

“Back at it then?” he asked with a yawn. 

“We could call it here if you prefer,” Hermann said, sensing his colleague’s exhaustion. 

“Yeah, I’m tempted, but...” Newt put his hands on his hips and stared down at his shoes for a beat. “Why don’t we go to the roof?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Hermann asked, perplexed. 

“Clear our heads,” Newt explained. “Fresh air and all that. Then if we feel up to it, come back down and keep at it a little longer. If not, we call it quits for today.” 

Hermann had to admit it wasn’t a half bad idea. He grabbed his cane and he and Newton wound through the labyrinthine route to the roof. They ascended the stairs and Newton pushed hard on the heavy door at the top. The darkened stairwell gave way to a huge, open sky. 

Hermann stared up at it, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the fading light of the outside. It was easy to go too long within the myopic inner walls of the Shatterdome. He fixed his gaze on the horizon, feeling his vision acclimatize to the distance. 

Next to him, Newton took in a deep breath. He twisted his body back and forth and there was an audible popping sound of his lower back as a result of his exaggerated movements. 

Newt winced and mouthed an ‘ow.’ He began to slowly saunter over to the railing; a concrete slab with a metal handrail on top to negate any risk of a fall off the edge. Hermann did a walking lap around the perimeter of the rooftop before joining him. 

Often the tarmac below hummed with movement, but being Saturday, there was a stillness in the impending evening. 

As Hermann approached, Newton’s back was to him. He stood looking out across the water, leaning his upper body forward, resting his weight on his elbows. He was still, other than the slight displacement of his hair and shirt in the breeze. As he heard Hermann’s footsteps behind him, he half turned and smiled before returning his gaze out over the darkening expanse. 

“I must admit, Newton,” Hermann began, as he stood next to his colleague. “Your aptitude for machinery is enviable.” 

“You thought I was gonna suck at it?” Newton chuckled, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

Hermann paused for a moment, considering this. “Actually, no. Your proficiency is impressive, but not surprising. I learned a long time ago not to underestimate your abilities in any field.” 

“Heh,” was all Newton said for a while. 

He shifted and looked at Hermann. “Well, Uncle Illia was a good teacher. He always had my back, he was the one who told my dad that I was... uh, _scientifically-inclined,_ ” he said, punctuating the last two words with air quotes. 

Hermann chuckled at his colleague’s turn of phrase. It was almost endearing how Newton avoided talking about his credentials and always sought a way to present his accomplishments so as to make them seem mundane. 

“Dad didn’t really have a clue about any of that,” Newton continued swaying back and forth slightly, shifting his weight between his feet, before finally wrapping one of his legs around the other. “To his credit though, he taught me piano when I was really little at my mother’s suggestion. Then when I took to it, he got me a proper instructor.” 

Hermann did not miss the way Newton referred to his father as ‘dad’ but his mother as ‘mother.’ He did not want to pry, so he kept his question open-ended; an invitation should Newton wish to take it, but not an intrusion. 

“Are you close with your family?” he inquired neutrally. 

“My uncle and I are super close,” Newt said. “We have a chat every few weeks. But we also just like, message each other randomly too.” 

“Those little exchanges can sometimes mean more than the longer ones,” Hermann responded thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Newton nodded and looked at Hermann, holding his gaze for a few moments before turning his eyes back on the ocean. “They remind you someone’s thinking about you.” 

Hermann followed Newton’s sight line back across the water. Looking out over its undulating expanse, it was hard to believe that beneath its depths, the mouth of hell itself had opened and monstrosities that may well end the world surged forth from its cavity. It was difficult to stave off the feelings of despair sometimes. After a long silence, Hermann spoke. 

“You know, I used to think of it as beautiful,” he said, eyes fixed unblinking on the horizon. “Watching the way the waves catch the light used to give me a sense of peace.” 

He paused and noticed in his peripheral vision Newton looking at him, listening intently. 

“But now, it fills me with dread,” he concluded, voice distant. 

Newton was silent next to him. The shorter man was once again leaning over the railing, staring out across the vast expanse of ocean. The golden rays of the setting sun reflected off his glasses, but behind the lenses, Hermann saw that Newton’s eyes in the shifting light were the most brilliant shade of green he’d ever seen. 

“I used to feel that too,” he said evenly as the wind off the Pacific ruffled his hair. 

“You don’t anymore?” Hermann asked. 

“Not like I used to,” he said before adding quickly. “And before you say anything, it’s not because I’m rooting for the kaiju or something. They are the most complex creatures humanity has ever encountered, period. So, I mean, that they’re incredible is just a fact. Unfortunately, some people take my statement of this objective fact as my subjective opinion and totally misunderstand, which you’d think I’d be used to by now.” 

He shook his head, reorienting his train of thought. “Anyway, do you, uh... wanna try it with me?” 

“Try what?” Hermann swallowed thickly as his eyes danced quickly over Newton’s lithe form and he found himself unconsciously leaning towards his lab partner. 

“The thing I do to get rid of the dread you were talking about.” 

Hermann nodded once, unsure but unable to quell his budding curiosity. 

“Okay, check this out,” Newton said and turned, standing with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out looking towards the ocean. “Hey,” he said confidently. “Fuck you.” 

He turned back to Hermann with a giddy grin. 

“Your turn,” he said, gesturing to the water. 

“My turn to... cuss at the ocean...?” Hermann said incredulously, unable to hide his disbelief. 

“Yup.” 

He leaned heavily on his cane. _Of all the ridiculous things_... he sighed as Newton just looked at him, crossing his arms, eyebrows raised impatiently. 

“You really expect me to do this?” Hermann confirmed. 

“Yup,” Newt repeated. 

Hermann shook his head and sighed, angling his body towards the Pacific and stuttered under his breath, “S-screw you.” He turned back to see if his half-hearted attempt had at least appeased Newton to the point that they could move on from this ludicrous exercise. 

Newt shook his head in overt disappointment. 

“Not even close, dude,” he said, walking directly into his labmate’s personal space as he put his hand firmly on the small of Hermann’s back, prompting him to straighten up. “Stand confidently and raise your voice more. Also, ‘screw’ is not gonna cut it. I’m serious. Ya gotta get that cathartic labiodental F-sound or it’s not gonna work, trust me.” 

Hermann lurched awkwardly, flushing with embarrassment from the combination of the light physical contact and his colleague’s preposterous request. Newt looked up at him over the rims of his glasses. “Humour me?” 

“Fine,” Hermann sighed and struck a pose, putting his hands on his hips like he’d seen Newton do moments prior and raised his voice slightly above its previous level. 

“Er, f-fuck you.” 

“Getting there,” Newt nodded appreciatively. “Louder this time.” 

“Fuck you!” Hermann half yelled, startling himself. But when he looked back at Newt, his lab partner was smiling widely. 

“Theeeeere ya go,” Newt laughed, turned and repeated his earlier stance, this time yelling far louder. “FUCK YOU, PACIFIC OCEAN!” 

Hermann couldn’t stifle the laughter he felt bubbling up in his chest at the utter absurdity of the situation before shouting, “Fuck off, you blasted ocean! Fuck off with your sodding ocean monsters!” 

This sent Newt into a fit of surprised giggles, “Dude, YES! I’m dying over here! Your Britishness makes this so much better!” 

Newt yelled again with a quick, stomping jump to punctuate each word. “FUCK! YOU!” 

He then put his hand on Hermann’s shoulder, teeth flashing in a wide grin. 

“Count of three? One, two...” 

“...FUCK YOU!!” they both yelled in unison at top volume. 

When finally he’d been able to stop laughing, Newt looked at Hermann with renewed energy. “It works, right?” 

“I had my doubts, Newton, but I do honestly feel better.” 

“And you know what? The next time you look out at the ocean, you’re gonna think of this and you’re gonna laugh your ass off, or...” he bit his bottom lip tentatively, “at least, you know... less dread.” 

Hermann turned and stared out over the darkening expanse of water. At least here, at least now in this moment, he truly did feel better. 

He noticed Newton peering down, not out over the ocean, but onto the tarmac below as a figure ambled along the seawall. A tiny orange light flickered occasionally, followed by a distant tendril of smoke. 

Newton leaned his body further over the railing, squinting at the figure before waving down and yelling, “Tendo!! Hey dude!” 

The sound of the man’s voice carried up towards them. “Hey Newt.” 

“Whatcha doing?” 

“Having a smoke.” 

“Cool. Hermann and I are swearing at the ocean!” 

Even at this distance, Hermann could see Tendo nod. “Right on, brother.” 

When Newt turned back to look up at him, his eyes were shining. “I dunno about you, but I feel like I’ve got a couple more hours in me.” 

If nothing else, Hermann didn’t want the night to end here. The light had all but faded from the sky and the stars had begun to come out and he felt energized in a way he had not in ages. 

“All right then,” Hermann affirmed. “Let’s get back to the lab.” 

*** 

As the months passed by, Hermann settled into a comfortable routine. Weekdays (and many weeknights) were spent in the K-Sci lab. Two evenings a week, he went to the gym for a cardio session. Fridays were K-Sci pizza night and due to Ethan’s occasional guest appearances, from time to time one or two of his J-tech friends would join them, but usually, it was just the five of them. 

Sometimes they would turn in at a sensible hour, but frequently they would stay up far too late, chatting well into the night. Their conversations were often light, but on occasion they would speak candidly about their lives. 

Alex opened up to the group about his separation from his wife and his desperation to balance being a father with saving the world. It clearly broke his heart to be apart from his daughters, but as he had put it one evening solemnly, “At the end of the day, I’m doing all this for them.” 

Kay spoke about her childhood in Guanajuato and how close she had been with her grandmother, a spirited woman who had just as much of a hand in raising Kay as her parents and had gifted her the pendant of Santa Barbara that perpetually hung around her neck, a female saint whose patronage included mathematicians, as her grandmother had told her proudly the year before her passing. It was her most prized possession and she never took it off. 

Chris spoke of her strict upbringing and how much resistance she’d encountered from her family when she wanted to pursue the sciences. She had moved out on her own at a young age in a combined act of defiance and independence, putting herself through university waiting tables in a 24-diner in Toronto. Hermann always had intrinsically known that his field was somewhat misogynistic, but hearing Kay and Chris speak honestly about their experiences in academia demonstrated just how much more they'd had to fight to rise to the positions of prominence they now occupied. 

Newton told his colleagues about his time at MIT. His stories were almost always humorous; pranks his grad students played on him and his epic retaliations, getting constantly booted from the staff lounge because he was mistaken for a student (even after a number of years as a professor which the group agreed was suspect), not being allowed to drink at faculty mixers because he was underage and all the creative methods he employed to sneak booze in for himself. He kept the group laughing but beneath his bombastic exterior, Hermann could sense the underlying isolation and loneliness Newton certainly had felt. He talked about ‘the gang’ as well from time to time, but never told stories about them in the context of being his band, only his friends. 

The lab music roster was a surprising success and as time went on, Hermann added songs to his lists, allowing his musical eclecticism to show. They cycled through various playlists per day and although frequently incongruent, the juxtaposition was never boring. 

Newton’s playlists were the most varied of the group. He had everything from heavy metal, classical, 80s, old school goth music and new wave (which Hermann secretly appreciated), dark wave, industrial, nerd rock and chip tunes. The only consistency was that whenever his playlist came up on a Friday, he would make sure to play “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure and try to get the others to dance with him. He was usually only successful in getting Chris to join, but after a few weeks of insistence, Kay would also bop along with them. 

Saturday nights, Hermann would frequently have a video chat with Nolan or Karla or other friends and colleagues who occasionally reached out to him. If he had no call scheduled, he would read until late into the night. 

Hermann decided to take Alex up on his offer to train together. They arranged to meet in the gym Sunday mornings when Alex claimed it wasn’t habitually too busy. Alex was truly in his element under a barbell and eventually, explaining the merits of linear progression, had Hermann lifting heavier than he ever thought possible. 

Afterwards, if he had errands to run, this was his window. But his Sunday nights were sacred and he made a point of never making plans to allow himself the quiet alone time he needed to center himself before the week began anew. 

*** 

Late one Saturday evening, Newt and Hermann stood over the Milking Machine, watching the detoxification process finalize. Newt was tapping his foot nervously and Hermann clutched his cane as they waited in silence. When the sample was ready to be taken from the chamber, Newton removed it and ran additional tests. 

They’d been working on the project together for several months now and if they got the desired outcome today, they could officially announce they had a working prototype. If not, it would be an arduous process of troubleshooting and possible partial redesign. 

Hermann allowed Newton a respectful distance and quiet, despite his overwhelming desire to crowd over his colleague and unhelpfully inquire after the results. 

Suddenly, Newton froze. He stood up straight, arms at his side not moving for a moment and Hermann felt his heart begin to sink. But when his colleague spun around on his feet, he had an ecstatic grin and was shaking with elation. 

“It works!” he shouted, barely containing his excitement. “Hermann! It works! We have a working prototype!!” 

Before he had time to react, Newt threw himself into Hermann’s arms and was hugging him fiercely. He looked up at Hermann and started laughing in happy disbelief before clutching him tightly again. 

“Newton, this is...” Hermann started, exhilaration and relief washing over him. He hugged Newton back, squeezing the smaller man tightly to his chest. “This is wonderful!” 

“We did it!” Newton’s voice was wavering slightly. “Hermann, seriously, man. I couldn’t have made this work without your help.” 

Hermann felt a rush of intense emotion. He had never seen Newton look so euphoric, his eyes crinkling beautifully from the sheer volume of his smile. And presently he was in Hermann’s arms, reveling in their shared triumph. Hermann had always prided himself on the tight control he maintained over his emotions, but he found himself unable to contain his words. 

“Newton,” he suddenly blurted out, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Huh?” Newton pulled back in confusion. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermann repeated. 

“Dude,” Newt laughed. “You are not making any sense right now. The machine works!” 

“No... I’m... I’m sorry that our first meeting was so wretched. It was my fault. I want you to know how much I value you... as a colleague,” he said before adding, “....and as a friend.” 

“Oh...” an expression of surprise flashed across Newton’s features and he stood motionless. 

“And I’m sorry it took me this long to say it. I owed you an apology years ago,” Hermann struggled to keep his voice even as he spoke. 

The look of shock on his colleague’s face gently transitioned into a small smile and he blinked rapidly a few times before brushing his hand quickly beneath his glasses. “It’s... it’s okay, man,” he eased back into the hug and put his head on Hermann’s shoulder. “But thanks... that means a lot to me.” 

Hermann felt a wave of relief and he let out a breath that felt like he had been holding in for years. He tightened his grip and held Newton there for an untold length of time, feeling the smaller man’s body relax into his, swaying slightly. He marveled at the way their height difference allowed their bodies to slot together almost perfectly. 

It was Newton who broke away from the hug first and Hermann immediately felt the loss of warmth. Newton ran his hand through his hair and smiled up at him in a way that made Hermann’s breath catch. “We’re uh... a pretty decent team, huh?” 

“We most certainly are,” Hermann said with quiet gratification. 

*** 

The following week, Newton produced a report on the implications of the completed Milking Machine for the PPDC, making a cogent argument for its implementation and use in all Shatterdomes with a Kaiju Science division. 

Three days after the analysis had been submitted, the lab comms buzzed with an incoming call. 

Alex made it to the apparatus first and said cordially, “K-Sci lab, Alex Chen speaking.” He paused for a moment before answering quickly. “Of course, Sir, I’ll get him.” 

He put the device on hold and called over to Newt. “Dr. Geiszler, Marshal Pentecost is on the line for you.” 

Newton looked up from his dissection table, his expression a mix of genuine surprise and abject terror. “For me? You sure?” 

“I mean, if he’d said Dr. G, it’d be ambiguous. We’ve got three of those around here,” Alex smirked genially. “But, no, he asked for you by name.” 

Newton hauled off his gloves in record time, forgetting entirely about his headlamp, which remained on throughout, sending randomized beams of light dancing off the walls of the lab. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the call with trepidation. Direct contact from the Marshal was unprecedented K-Sci territory and Newt’s anxiety was understandably palpable. 

“Newt Geiszler speaking,” he said after picking up the receiver and unmuting the device. He was silent for a few beats. “Of course... Okay, I can make that work...” 

Newton hung up the phone and announced to the room. “Marshal incoming in fifteen. He wants to see the prototype in action.” 

Hermann tensed and began tidying up his already immaculate work station. 

Dr. Chen sprang into action. “What do you need, Newt?” 

“Could you grab me the samples labeled 4-B and 6-F from the ice box?” he asked, powering up the Milking Machine as he spoke. “Oh, and the toxin detection assay?” 

With five minutes to go, Newt approached Hermann who was still fussing uselessly with the affairs on his desk. 

“Hey man,” he said as calmly as reasonably possible under the circumstances. “Can I rely on you for an assist?” 

Hermann froze in horror, which must have been apparent from his change in body language because Newt immediately elaborated. “It’s not likely Pentecost will have questions about the machinery itself, but if he does, you’re the guy to explain it. Otherwise, I just need you to stand there and look pretty, okay?” 

Hermann scoffed, but Newt ignored him and smiled. “More importantly, I want to give credit where credit’s due. It was a joint effort, after all.” 

Hermann was about to object on the grounds that Newton had conceptualized and spearheaded the project when the Marshal strode into the lab with predictable punctuality. 

“Good afternoon,” he nodded to the assembled science officers. Newton stood by the machine. Hermann tried to position himself slightly behind, but his colleague put a hand on his back and gently shoved him forward so they were standing side by side. 

“Afternoon, Marshal!” Newt said hospitably. Hermann cringed at his colleague’s informal tone; Newton perpetually failed to grasp that an overly casual demeanor was not welcome within a militaristic hierarchical structure such as the PPDC. “Thanks for coming. I know you’re busy, so I’ll jump right in.” He put one of the samples Dr. Chen had brought him into the machine and began his explanation. 

“Essentially, because every kaiju has unique properties, we can’t make any assumptions regarding the potential toxicity level of each specimen that comes into the lab. We initially treat them all as super toxic, and we’re frequently right. Our current detox methods are highly effective, but time consuming. We’re not dealing with carbon-based life forms here and kaiju toxins like Blue are quite literally not terrestrial, so precision is essential.” 

The Marshal nodded, slowly circling around the machine, inspecting it with attentive interest. 

“The potentially extreme toxicity means we have to use ultra-sensitive diagnostic assays. But because it requires so long to ensure a full detox, it’s an awkward trade-off. Basically, we can’t start getting data right away without utilizing extreme bio-safety measures. To paraphrase? You want results tomorrow, we’ve gotta bust out the hazmat suit. You want results in a month, we’re good to go with latex gloves. Not ideal.” 

The Marshal looked at Newton intently. “Certainly not.” 

Newt took this as a sign to continue. “Our old methods relied on complex sample processing steps and long incubation times. But the Milking Machine right here,” he patted the top of the apparatus fondly, “uses a centrifugal microfluidic platform for toxin detection.” 

He gestured to the device. “It’s super easy to use, read: idiot-proof, and totally automated. And the time of assay is massively reduced. It’s rapid and reliable and means we can be working with kaiju bits almost immediately after receiving them.” 

He withdrew the specimen, and in an act of foolhardy showmanship to unequivocally demonstrate his point, prodded it with his bare, ungloved finger. 

Pentecost nodded. “Exemplary work, Dr. Geiszler,” he stated with stern but sincere appreciation. 

“Thanks, Marshal. Dr. Gottlieb helped me with it,” Newt gave Hermann a friendly clap on the back. “I couldn’t have done it without him.” 

“Excellent,” Pentecost turned to look at Hermann. “Tremendous job, both of you.” 

Hermann felt his arm involuntarily come up to his forehead in an absurd salute which he immediately berated himself for but he had already committed to it. 

“Thank you, Marshal, Sir,” Hermann stood rigidly at attention as Newt quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Dr. Geiszler, I would like you to give an official demonstration of the Milking Machine to the Funding Committee,” the Marshal stated. “I’ll be in touch with the exact details. If approved, we will replicate and deploy it to other Shatterdomes.” 

“You got it,” Newt folded his arms casually before noticing the stern look Hermann was giving him and awkwardly tacked on, “Uh...Sir.” 

“I only have one question,” the Marshal paused for a moment. “Is the name final?” 

“Uh... yes?” Newt affirmed hesitantly. 

“Alright then...” Pentecost furrowed his brow. He looked as if he was about to say something further but instead gave a single nod to Newt and Hermann and a small polite bow to the rest of the assembled K-Scientists before exiting the lab. A long beat of silence fell over the group. 

Nobody moved until Newton abruptly shouted and pumped his fist in the air, causing Hermann to jump with alarm. 

“YES!!” he whooped enthusiastically. 

“Wow, Newt! Congrats, this is huge!” Kay clapped her hands in shared excitement. 

“Nicely done,” Alex said, before adding with a grin. “So, how are you at giving presentations?” 

“Dude, I used to give lectures all the time at MIT. I got wicked scores on ‘Rate My Professor.com.’ Don’t you worry about my presentation skills, I’m a natural,” Newt said, puffing up his chest in comedic exaggeration. 

Hermann rolled his eyes at his colleague’s perpetual overconfidence, but felt genuinely happy for the immense and well-deserved professional assertation this represented for Newton. 

“Good job, little buddy,” Chris ruffled Newt’s hair fondly. “I am, like, weirdly excited to see your little punk ass in a proper suit!” 

“Uhhh...” Newton furrowed his brow slightly, completely sidetracked by this unexpected digression. “I don’t own a suit.” 

“Are you serious?” Chris said, incredulous. “How have you made it three decades without owning a damn suit? What were you planning to wear?” 

“Something like this,” Newt gestured to his outfit; bright red chucks, black jeans, a black button up shirt and a red skinny tie which perfectly matched his shoes. 

“Okay, don’t get me wrong, your look is on point,” Chris said with an appreciative nod. “But ya gotta suit up for a presentation like this.” 

“Damn, uh...” Newton looked slightly panicked and turned to Alex and Hermann. “Do either of you have anything I can borrow?” 

“Newtito, mi corazón,” Kay tried to soften the blow of her impending statement with a term of endearment. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but their suits aren’t going to fit you...” 

Newt gave his male colleagues an obvious once over before sighing and coming to the same conclusion. 

“I guess I’ll have to buy one then,” he acquiesced, folding his arms, shoulders sagging slightly. 

“Maybe Ethan could help you pick something out,” Kay added helpfully. 

“No way,” Newton waved his hand dismissively. “He’s like, way too nice. He’ll just say everything I try on looks adorable. No, I need someone who’s gonna tell me like it is. Someone who has no problem being scathing and critical. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but... Hermann?” 

Hermann started in confusion at the sudden attention. 

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Newton asked. 

Now that they had completed the prototype, his Saturdays were in fact, quite clear. 

“Um, I do not have plans,” he said hesitantly. 

“Good,” Newt sighed. “You’re taking me shopping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty sure this chapter is the longest yet! There was a lot of ground to cover and a reasonably significant time skip as the boys laboured after-hours to get a working prototype of the Milking Machine (which is apparently a thing in the K-Sci lab and all we know about it is that it was invented by Newt for neutralizing kaiju toxins, and that it has a RIDICULOUS name, so lots of room to play around there). I’m hoping yet again that the science-y bits do not sound completely bogus.
> 
> But more importantly... finally! Finally Hermann managed a ridiculously long overdue apology. It didn’t come with an explanation and there is still so, so much left unsaid, but it's a step in the right direction. It’s been a rollercoaster for these two, going from celebrity crush to long-distance associates turned friends to not friends to colleagues… I have taken the most circuitous route possible I think. Anyway, this one was a little bit of a turning point! 
> 
> Also, rooftop bonding. I had waaaaay too much fun writing that scene. 
> 
> By the way, the song Newt plays in the lab every Friday is this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGgMZpGYiy8
> 
> Next up… Newt drags Hermann shopping to get a suit for his presentation AKA the make-over episode (yes, kind of, yes, not really, but mostly yes).


	8. Allegro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Marshal Pentecost asks Newt to present his project to the PPDC funding committee, he realizes he needs to buy a formal suit. Sensing that Hermann will not hesitate in giving him a candid opinion, he enlists his colleague to accompany him shopping. Hermann makes an impulse purchase to give to Newt on his presentation day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes (German):  
> Bruder: brother  
> Schwester: sister

Hermann stood outside the Shatterdome, tapping his cane impatiently on the ground and waiting for his colleague and the shuttle into downtown Hong Kong, both apparently behind schedule. 

He gazed out over the Pacific Ocean. The sky was reflecting off the surface in a patchwork blanket of undulating white on blue. He wasn’t sure if he could ever think of it as beautiful again, but Newton had been right about his strange stress relief technique; every time Hermann looked out at its expanse, he recalled the evening a few months back in the middle of the project. The entire exercise, however absurd, had been oddly effective and if nothing else, they’d gotten a good laugh out of it. 

He glanced back and saw the glint of sun reflecting off metal in the distance as the shuttle entered the lot and rolled steadily towards its stop. Hermann looked around in dismay for his absent labmate. 

The vehicle pulled up and two J-tech officers disembarked with what looked to be an armful of treats from one of the overpriced import stores. 

Just as Hermann was about to ask the driver to kindly wait a few more minutes before departing, Newton rounded the corner at full speed and nearly knocked over the officer holding the majority of the bags. 

Hermann could hear Newton’s voice, louder than the others. “Whoa, sorry, dude! Oh hey, Tendo! Oooh, what did you get at the- wait, hold that thought, I gotta jet.” 

He ran up behind Hermann who had one foot on the ground and the other in the shuttle to make doubly certain that it didn’t leave without them. 

“Sorry, man,” Newt said, a little breathless. “I was googling pictures of suits and lost track of time.” They both stepped up into the shuttle and took two seats side by side near the back.

Hermann was about to berate him for his less than punctual arrival, but Newt continued on with conspicuous excitement, not letting him get a word in. 

“So, the Marshal called me yesterday. God, getting an actual phone call from the big boss is _stressful_. I seriously wish he’d just e-mailed and spared me the momentary freak out. Anyway, the presentation is gonna be this Wednesday in the big conference room,” he paused only for a quick breath before continuing, “so basically, I need to get a suit this weekend or I'm screwed.” 

His eyes flicked up and down over Hermann’s attire and he added with a little smirk, “So where do _you_ get your clothes? Because we should go anywhere but there.” 

“Newton,” Hermann sighed with an exaggerated huff. “I’m doing you a favor. Kindly refrain from slandering my sense of fashion.” 

“Yeah, but that would imply you _have_ a sense of fashion,” Newt retorted swiftly. 

“The shuttle hasn’t left yet, you know,” Hermann made a motion with his cane as if he was going to stand up. “I could simply disembark and leave you to it.” 

“Hey, I’m kidding,” Newt said, putting a hand on Hermann’s arm with a gentle downward pressure to try and keep him in place. “I _love_ your weird hipster grandpa look. It’s so unfashionable that it loops back around again to like, some kinda esoteric high fashion thing.” 

Hermann sighed loudly. 

“I actually meant that as a compliment, dude,” Newt looked up at him over the rims of his glasses with an expression of mock innocence. 

“Well, it hardly sounded like one. Forgive me if I don’t thank you,” Hermann said acerbically, but settled himself back into the hard plastic of the shuttle seat. 

Newton just gave him a huge smile. In truth, Hermann didn’t mind his colleague’s slightly derisive running commentary; sassy banter appeared to be a form of Geiszlerian endearment. Since the moment they had shared together in the lab at the project’s completion, Newton’s manner around him had shifted significantly. He seemed far more at ease than before and his casual quips were one manifestation of that. 

Hermann relaxed into the chair as far as was possible and the shuttle rumbled away from the Shatterdome. 

The trip took about twenty-five minutes driving and another ten walking before they arrived at their destination. They entered, checked the bright screen of the shopping center map and found their way to the suit store that Newt had found online. 

When they entered the shop, Newt froze looking around the room in apprehensive awe. 

A saleswoman quickly swooped in to engage him. “How can I help you today?” she asked with a polished smile. 

“Um...” Newt stuttered slightly. “I’m here for, uh... for a suit.” 

The saleswoman politely waited for him to continue. When no response was forthcoming, she offered helpfully, “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Do you know your suit size?” 

Newt was clearly out of his depth. “Uh... medium... I guess?” 

Hermann took pity on the man and gave him a desperately needed assist. 

“If I may,” he began as Newt nodded helplessly. “He is looking for something classic and professional. He’ll need to be measured for accuracy, but he stands at approximately 1.70 meters tall.” 

“Mmm, nope. That does not convert to 5’8” ½, dude,” Newt said anxiously and then turning to the saleswoman reiterated unnecessarily. “That’s my height. I’m 5’8’ ½.” 

“Newton, she is going to measure you,” Hermann said dryly. 

Newt deflated slightly, averting his gaze. “Fine, 5’7” ...” 

Hermann turned back to the saleswoman and continued with poise. “Obviously his stature will require a jacket with thinner shoulders and skinnier lapels and I’m thinking monochromatic to keep the look streamlined. And we’ll have to watch his inseam. We wouldn’t want the fabric to bunch at the shoe.” 

The saleswoman looked momentarily horrified. “No, of course not!” 

“I think a jacket with a slit pocket would be preferable, no distracting flaps,” Hermann continued. “And a tie with a bold color to bring the look together.” 

“Perfect, we’ll get him measured and I’ll bring some options,” she said cordially. “Feel free to proceed to the dressing room and I’ll be right with you.” 

Hermann began to walk in the direction the saleswoman had indicated until he realized Newton had not moved. He turned to see his colleague rooted in place, staring at him with his mouth hanging open. 

“DUDE,” he said without any further explanation and followed Hermann towards the back of the store. 

He was set up in a changeroom by a junior sales associate. He shrugged off his leather jacket, unzipped and set aside the hoodie he was wearing underneath, revealing a tight, white V-neck t-shirt. Hermann could see the colors of Newt’s full back piece tattoo showing slightly through the fabric. 

The saleswoman returned to take Newton’s measurements (1.69 meters when he stood as straight as possible), before disappearing briefly to retrieve the initial round of options and pass them into the room for him. 

Shortly after, he stepped out in the first suit. It was passable; a little big in the shoulders, which the saleswoman appraised immediately and gave him the next size down. He cycled through a few more until Hermann interjected. “Do you have any two button jacket options? It’s a more classic look than the three, I think, and will elongate his figure.” 

With some tweaking and trial and error with different styles, the saleswoman asked Newton speculatively. “How do you feel about a waistcoat?” 

Newton looked over at Hermann mildly panicked and clearly in need of clarification. 

“Yes, I think a vest would work nicely,” he answered smoothly. 

The saleswoman brought back an entirely different suit with a matching vest and passed the set to Newton, who vanished back into the changeroom. 

He emerged a short time later and turned to get a better look in the various mirrors positioned around. “What do you think?” he asked hesitantly. 

Hermann had to make a conscious effort not to gape. Newt was wearing a tailored looking black vest with black pants and a crisp, white dress shirt. The cut was perfect, sleek and streamlined, and the vest flattered his small waist and posterior. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, scrutinizing the mirror uncertainly. 

“This one’s not bad, huh?” Newt asked, glancing to Hermann. 

“It’s... it’s marvelous. Very dashing,” Hermann said earnestly, eyes fixed on his colleague. 

“Aw, come on, Hermann,” Newt looked back over his shoulder. “If I wanted flattery, I would have brought Ethan. I brought you because I want the harsh, brutal truth. Lay it on me, dude.” 

Newt angled his hips upward and looked back in the mirror, clearly appraising how the suit made his ass look. Hermann swallowed thickly. At least in this context, he didn’t have to steal glances at his colleague’s physique; he was meant to be actively evaluating and unabashedly took the opportunity. 

“My assessment stands,” Hermann said, putting on his most professional tone outwardly to counter the increasingly unprofessional thoughts materializing inwardly. “If it looked dreadful, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell you.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Newt quirked a grin at Hermann before looking back in the mirror. "So, in other words, you’re saying that it... suits me?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly...” Hermann started before noticing Newton’s expression of pure glee at his own statement, which forced an immediate reassessment. 

“Oh, for the love of-,” Hermann sighed, shaking his head. The saleswoman looked at him with a commiserative expression of pure sympathy. 

“Whatever, puns are the highest form of humour and you know it,” Newton said, putting his hands casually in the pants pockets. “Do you think I should I get the... what did you call it? Waistcoat?” 

“Yes,” Hermann said a little too quickly. He saw the saleswoman cover a smile in the corner of his eye. 

“I mean,” he corrected. “It goes with the outfit and it looks sharp on you. Very professional.” 

“Yeah, and I might actually wear it again. With jeans or something. I like the look of it,” Newt said. 

_Do wear it again,_ Hermann thought before he could mentally stop himself. 

“Can you take a picture for me?” Newt asked, handing his phone to Hermann with the camera app already open. 

Hermann positioned it at the ready as Newt struck a ridiculous pose, before chuckling and realigning himself to look half sensible. He proceeded to roll up his sleeves and sling the jacket over his shoulder, leaning his weight on his hip and grinning winsomely. 

_The man certainly knows how to maneuver himself in front of a lens,_ Hermann thought, forbidding himself from conjuring up the mental image of the well-worn magazine he’d had for years with the Black Velvet Rabbits photo feature. 

Hermann snapped off a few pictures and passed the phone back to Newton, who inspected them, deleted all but one and sent a text message. 

Hermann’s phone pinged moments later as the image appeared on the K-Sci group text chain. It received almost instant replies; polite and complimentary from Alex and Kay and a rapid-fire series of borderline inappropriate gifs from Chris. Newton chuckled and pocketed the device. 

“You should pick out a tie while you still have it on,” Hermann suggested. After a brief conversation about color preference, the saleswoman brought back a selection of ties, which Newton eyed skeptically. 

“These all look kinda thick, no?” 

“Newton, that is standard tie width,” Hermann stated with some derision. “The scraps of fabric you wear are far too informal for the suit you’ve chosen.” 

Newt stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout but conceded. “This is why I brought your cranky ass along, I guess.” 

He sifted through the various colors and selected a black one. But he also held a purple one for a moment, considering it before turning back to Hermann, holding the tie up against the suit. “What do you think of this one?” 

“Yes, I would definitely go with purple, it emphasizes the green of your eyes,” Hermann said, before immediately regretting the last half of the sentence. 

His mind desperately sought something to fill the silence that followed, but true to form, Newton beat him to it and spoke first. “I can’t believe you’re a secret fashionista, Hermann. Like, is frump the new black?” 

“I refuse to dignify that with a response,” Hermann said defensively, but grateful that his prior comment went unacknowledged. 

“We also have a few designer ties, if you’re interested,” the saleswoman said as she signalled to a junior staffer to bring her the collection. He was gone and back in moments holding an array of ties with much bolder designs. 

Newton took a look over the options when suddenly his jaw dropped comically. 

“Oh my god...” his eyes lit up and he looked excitedly at the saleswoman, babbling quickly. “Is this a Godzilla tie?! This is the actual greatest thing I’ve ever seen!” 

“Yes, that one is a limited edition from a well-known Hong Kong designer.” 

Hermann inspected the tie. It looked to be high quality, black with a repeating pattern of small white Godzilla silhouettes that appeared as polka dots from a distance. 

“Should I get it?” Newt effused, looking to Hermann. “I should get it, right?” 

“Well, the solid color tie is more of a classic look,” Hermann considered. “This one is... stylish but less professional.” 

“Right, yeah, you’re totally right. So, I’ll just get both,” Newton beamed at his simple solution however when he flipped the tag over to reveal the price, his shoulders sagged. 

“Whoa! Yikes, this is...” he trailed off. 

“As I mentioned, the designer did a limited run on this line,” the saleswoman explained sympathetically. 

“Yeahhhhh,” Newton deflated visibly. “Yeah, I guess not, huh? Not when I’m already getting a full suit and cool but sensible tie.” 

When Newton disappeared again into the changeroom, Hermann took a look at the price tag. It was indeed more expensive, but not overly so. But in combination with a full suit, it did augment the total. 

He called to Newton, “I’ll be on the bench outside the shop when you’re done changing.” 

He had nearly made it to the exit of the store before he stopped in his tracks. An irrepressible impulse took over and he turned on his heels and quickly approached the counter. The saleswoman was standing there ready to ring up Newton’s purchase. 

He cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice. “I’d like to purchase the uh, Godzilla tie, please.” The words felt strange coming out of his mouth. 

“Certainly,” the saleswoman smiled back at him with a well-concealed look of mild surprise. “Shall I add it to the total?” 

“Ah, no, I’d like to get it separately.” Hermann said, eyes flicking back to the changeroom, hoping Newton didn’t emerge before he’d whisked the tie out of sight. “And could I get a small bag for it as well, please.” He swiftly slid his credit card across the counter. 

The saleswoman nodded in understanding and put the tie smoothly into a small bag in record time, passing it to Hermann before the transaction went through. 

“He’ll love it,” she whispered back with a secretive smile, before adding with polite interest. “How long have you two been together?” 

Hermann had already put the package into his messenger bag before he fully registered the question. 

“Oh, no, we’re not...” he flushed a deep crimson, just as Newton burst out of the changeroom and skip stepped towards the till, the junior staffer following a few steps behind with his items. 

“Hey,” Newt approached the counter and grinned at Hermann, pulling out his credit card. “I thought you were gonna wait outside.” 

“Ah, yes, well, we became engrossed in a conversation about pocket squares,” Hermann fibbed with a wave of his hand as the saleswoman nodded in enthusiastic agreement. 

“Of course you did, weirdo,” Newt said with a small head shake. He turned to the saleswoman as she rang up his purchase. “Thanks for all your help.” 

“It was my pleasure,” she said cordially to Newton, before she met Hermann’s eyes with a small smile. “Good luck.” 

Hermann swiftly averted his gaze, tightening his grip on the strap of his messenger bag. 

Newt just smiled and chirped, “Thanks!” 

As they exited the shop together Newt laughed slightly. “That was nice of her to wish me luck but did I mention my presentation at any point?” 

“I’m sure one of us must have made reference to it,” Hermann said circumspectly. 

“Yeah, must’ve,” Newton said, swinging his bag back and forth. “So, uh... pretty sure I owe you a thank you lunch for all your help. My treat.” 

“I could certainly eat,” Hermann said. “But there’s no need for you to treat me.” 

“I know,” Newt said simply. “I want to.” 

“All right then,” Hermann said with a chuckle. “I hear there is an excellent Wagyu beef restaurant on the second floor of this mall.” 

Newton gaped for a moment before laughing loudly. “Oh yeah? Have they got saffron caviar in truffle oil too?” 

“I’ve heard that’s their speciality," Hermann smirked. 

Newton burst out laughing again. “You’re actually pretty funny when you wanna be,” he said, elbowing Hermann gently in the side as they walked. 

“Don’t act so surprised,” Hermann chuckled and leaned into the touch, before catching himself. 

“For real though, your choice,” Newt said, adding with comical emphasis. “Within reason.” 

“How about dim sum then?” Hermann asked. 

“I can always go for dim sum,” Newton replied. 

*** 

Newton chattered excitedly throughout the shuttle ride back to the Shatterdome. They had gotten into an absorbing conversation about pattern recognition in bioinformatics which coded more as a debate. As they pulled into the lot, they were still locked in their quick-fire discourse and Hermann found himself wishing that the ride had been longer. 

As they disembarked from the vehicle, Newton looked up to see Ethan waiting at the shuttle stop. 

“Heeeey dude!” his face lit up at the sight of the taller man. “You didn’t have to meet me.” 

Ethan gave him a small smile. “I said I would. You didn’t get my text?” 

“Huh?” Newt took his phone out of his pocket to check it, and looked back up at Ethan sheepishly. “Sorry, I must’ve slipped it on silent by accident.” 

“It’s cool,” Ethan shrugged. “Still wanna do that Universal Monsters movie marathon we talked about?” 

“Dude, YES! What’s our order? Oldest to newest? Newest to oldest?” Newt asked, immediately in another world, oblivious. 

Feeling all of a sudden very much the third wheel, Hermann turned wordlessly to go. He'd made it a few paces away when Newt’s voice called out behind him. 

“Hermann!” 

He turned back as Newt was catching up to him. “Man, you seriously saved my ass today.” 

“You’re welcome, Newton,” Hermann said, adding under his breath. “It was my pleasure.” 

*** 

He had about three hours to kill before his long overdue Skype call with Karla, so he decided to get a workout in at the gym. 

He recalled the saleswoman at the suit shop, how she’d thought that he and Newt were a couple. He had to remind himself soberly that he’d had his chance with Newton years ago and had not taken it. At any rate, Newton was not available. He and Ethan were together and regardless, he had overheard Chris and Newt’s clandestine whispers on more than one occasion; Newton about Grindr and Chris about whatever the straight person one was called and their past associated woes and triumphs. Newton was unequivocally, undoubtedly unavailable and almost certainly, definitely, surely not interested in Hermann as anything more than a friend. 

_He called you ‘hot’ when he met you when he didn’t know you were his colleague..._ he remarked to himself, mind betraying him momentarily with false hope and wishful thinking. He banished the notion into the recesses of his mind before it could escalate any further.

He tried to still his internal monologue and focus on the music as he worked out. He had gone down this path of speculation so many times before and it did not serve him to rehash the past. He had at least managed to apologize to Newton, despite the fact that an explanation was still sorely lacking and increasingly since then, he seemed to give Hermann a certain level of respect and trust. His colleague’s attitude where he was concerned had markedly improved since then. And that was enough. 

He finished his workout, showered, changed and went back to his room. He set his electric kettle to boil and prepared a cup of tea in anticipation of the call with his sister. 

The video loaded up and Hermann was suddenly video face to very close video face with the fattest grey long-haired cat he’d ever seen. 

“Um... Karla...?” he ventured. 

Abruptly, the cat was being pulled back from the camera, revealing his sister holding it in her arms with an excited expression. 

“Hermann... this is Nero,” she said joyfully. “Nero, this is my surly older Bruder Hermann.” She switched into baby voice, nuzzling the top of the cat’s head. “Yes, he is. Yes, he’s the surliest, grumpiest, crankiest Bruder.” 

“You named your cat after a tyrannical pyromaniac?” Hermann asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously and purposefully ignoring his sibling’s unveiled insults. 

“Yeah, well,” she giggled. “Remember your goldfish Ptolemy and Pythagoras? Historians are _almost_ as bad as mathematicians for weird pet names.” 

“Almost...” Hermann said dryly. 

“So, yeah, I got a cat,” she circled back. 

“I can see that.” 

“My friend and I went to this cat café to visit the kitties,” she launched immediately into her story. “And she was thinking she might adopt, but then when we got there I saw- hey, why aren’t you drinking?” she cut herself off abruptly, searching Hermann’s immediate proximity via the webcam. 

“With our time difference, mutual imbibing is no longer appropriate,” Hermann retorted. 

“Hermann. Hermann. Bruder. Are you alone in your room?” 

“Yes.” 

“Of course you are.” 

“Not the point.” 

“Are you going to be leaving your room or doing science for the rest of the day?” 

“Only to pass by the commissary later,” Hermann said before clarifying. “For food, obviously, not science.” 

“Then, join me in my undignified, unseemly day drinking,” Karla giggled, brandishing her glass. 

Hermann sighed and rolled his eyes. “If I add a drop of brandy in my tea, will that suffice, dear Schwester?” 

“It’s a start,” Karla conceded. 

“You are a terrible influence,” Hermann stated, but shuffled to one of the few closed cabinets in his room to retrieve his brandy bottle. He was not a fan of open concept shelving any more than he was a fan of metal paneled walls, but such was his lot. 

He added a generous dollop into his mug and took a dramatized gulp, adding sardonically, “Happy now?” 

“Oh, very,” she smiled slyly before turning a conversational one-eighty. “So, what was this big event today that meant you had to bump our call from this morning to this evening?” 

“Uh, well, I went shopping with Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann stated, taking a conspicuously nonchalant sip of his tea. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“I went shopping with Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann repeated. “He needed a suit for an upcoming presentation, so he asked me to come with him.” 

“Wow, he needed fashion advice and went to _you_?” Karla asked, eyes wide. 

“I could shut this call off right now...” Hermann warned. 

“KIDDING, god,” she chuckled with an eye roll. 

“But, no, technically, he asked me because he needed an honest opinion.” 

“Okay, okay, and then what happened?” Karla prompted. 

“We had lunch,” Hermann stated neutrally. 

“Sooooo, you two went on a date then?” Karla inquired with more than a hint of hopefulness in her voice. 

“Being asked to give scathing critique is hardly a date,” Hermann said, more morosely than intended. 

“Unless you’re asking Hermann Gottlieb, and then it’s most _definitely_ a date,” she took a sip of her drink and grinned, “if not foreplay.” 

“KARLA. How many drinks have you had already?” Hermann asked, scandalized. 

“This is my first,” she said, pretending to be offended. “So, did he find something?” 

“Oh yes,” Hermann replied a little too quickly. 

“Aww, I wish I could see a photo,” Karla lamented. 

“Mmm,” Hermann mumbled noncommittally. 

“YOU HAVE A PHOTO!” Karla shouted, grin maniacally wide. “SEND IT TO ME RIGHT NOW.” 

“I never said I had-” Hermann attempted to evade and was promptly cut off. 

“Hermann, I have known you my entire life,” she said with Gottlieb-esque dryness. “You can’t pull one over on me. Now send me the fricking photo.” 

Hermann took up his phone with an exaggerated huff, double checking very carefully that he was forwarding it to the correct person. A misfire to basically anyone else would have devastating social consequences. 

As his thumb hit the send button, he immediately regretted it. 

Karla picked her phone up as it buzzed and scrutinized the screen with obvious interest before doing a double take. 

“Oh. Oh my,” she said with clear approval. “Hermann... my god, he’s _cute._ ” 

Hermann shrugged, avoiding confirming or denying anything, pointless as it was at this juncture. 

“Wait, hold on,” Karla said, inspecting the picture further. “Your boy has TATTOOS! Like, extensive, colorful tattoos that I assume don’t stop there. I can’t believe you’ve never mentioned this before!” 

“He is not my _boy,”_ Hermann retorted. 

“Don’t you go for more, like, clean-cut type guys?” Karla quirked an eyebrow at her long-suffering sibling. “The thick glasses, tats and hair give him kind of a rockabilly vibe. Like, I’d date this cute little bastard in two seconds if he was straight. But I’m not gonna lie, he’s a bit out of left field for you.” 

"Well, I admit, he’s not my usual type. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve always been drawn to him somehow.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to justify it,” Karla grinned. “He’s hot in a quirky adorkable kind of way, if that’s your thing. I’m actually proud of you. Expanding your horizons... dating punky boys...” 

“For the last time, we are not _dating_. He is, in fact, seeing someone at the moment,” Hermann said flatly. 

“Well, that is just awful news,” she said with a pout. “A fellow K-Sci-er?” 

“No, J-tech,” Hermann clarified. 

“Cute?” 

“Absurdly well built.” 

“Smart?” 

“I... yes?” Hermann answered uncertainly. “He seems to be reasonably quick-witted from our periodic exchanges.” 

“No, but I mean, is romantic rival a certified genius?” she specified. 

“He is not a _romantic rival_ , Karla. That is an absurd concept,” Hermann deadpanned. “But no, I don’t believe he’s a ‘certified genius,’ as you put it.” 

“Good!” she chirped. “Then bide your time.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“OOF. I’m starting to question _your_ whole genius designation thing. Lies. Blatant lies,” Karla joked, shaking her head. “You two had a real intellectual connection back when you were writing to each other. Sorry to tell you, but you’ve ruined yourselves for other people. Really, I mean, how could anyone else possibly live up to that?” 

As Karla said the words, Hermann knew that was doubtlessly true for him. Reading Newton’s letters, he had never felt that level of affinity with anyone else. Over the course of his career, he had found plenty of people interesting. But he found Newton _fascinating._ Every iteration of the man he’d ever encountered only solidified this. 

But Newton seemed to form bonds with people far easier than he did. Hermann thought back to orientation day, when Newton and Chris had started chatting like they’d known each other for years almost instantly. Then the night Newton had met Ethan, they were immersed in conversation for hours. It occurred to Hermann that perhaps the connection he’d felt during their correspondence had not been as significant for Newton. It was not as hard for him as it was for Hermann to open up to people. The thought filled him with a profound despondency.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Karla,” he said, pushing aside the melancholia he felt churning and taking himself unequivocally out of the conversational spotlight. “Now, you showed me a cranky cat with only the very beginnings of an explanation. I want to hear the full story of how that came to be.” 

***

Before lunchtime on the day of Newt’s presentation, he announced he was leaving to get “suited up” but would return to transport the Milking Machine himself to the conference room. He’d insisted on Hermann’s presence at the event because of his role in the apparatus’ creation. 

While Hermann did not anticipate having to speak, he felt the need to change into more formal attire all the same and went back to his quarters to freshen up.

He gingerly took down the ironed dress shirt and blazer from the hanger where he had set them out the night before and fixed his hair in front of the mirror, parting it and slicking it subtly to the side so that his bangs were off his forehead. 

His eyes drifted to the other item he had set aside; the Godzilla tie he had impulsively bought in secret. He had removed it from its small paper bag to ensure that it didn’t crease, but now replaced it to bring it with him covertly in the event he lost the nerve to present it to its intended recipient. 

He took in a breath and walked slowly back to the lab. His stomach was in turmoil. He was nervous that he may have to join his colleague on stage but more than that, he was anxious for Newton’s sake. He knew that the machine would be of tremendous benefit to the organization but if the committee could not be made to understand, it would be a terrible blow to the war effort. His mind wandered back to the joint program cuts months ago and the rumours of ‘alternate solutions.’ He desperately hoped that reason would prevail today. 

As he entered the lab, the sight before him did nothing for his nerves. Newton was standing talking to Alex, his back to Hermann. The suit pants perfectly followed the curve of his body and the vest emphasized his waist. His sleeves were rolled up, showing his tattooed forearms. His hair was as tamed as Hermann had ever seen it. 

Chris wolf-whistled as Hermann walked in and Newton half turned back to look. His face was completely smooth; Hermann could not remember a time when he’d ever seen his colleague freshly shaven and the purple tie did indeed emphasize the bright green of his eyes. He looked absolutely exquisite. 

Newton walked over to Hermann and gave him an obvious glance up and down. “Uh... wow. You look awesome, man,” he said with a small askew grin. 

“You look... very professional, Newton,” Hermann managed to get out before Chris and Kay were suddenly next to them. 

“You’re both so handsome,” Kay cooed as Chris nodded and whistled again. 

“You realize I have to wow the committee with my _science words_ , right?” Newt countered with bravado, spinning around and shaking his hips. “Not with how good my butt looks in this suit?” 

“Damn shame, that,” Chris winked. 

“Remember to keep your sleeves rolled down though, Newt,” Alex stated, eyes flicking to his colleague’s forearms. “You don’t want anything distracting from your, uh... science words.” 

Hermann felt a sense of gratitude for Dr. Chen’s assertion. He despised always having to be the one to insist on propriety. It was nice for someone else to step up in that regard once in a while. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Newt said, rolling his sleeves back down. “I gotcha. Honestly I was just gonna keep my suit jacket on the whole time.” He took a step towards his desk. “Okay, I just gotta grab my notes and then I’m good to go.” 

Hermann followed him to allow for a moment of privacy away from the rest of the team. He clutched the small paper packet in his hand as he watched Newton rifle around for his notebook. He sighed resolutely, steeling his nerves. 

“Newton,” he said. “I have something for you.” He thrust the small package into Newton’s hand. “For your presentation today.” 

His labmate looked down at the paper bag, quirking his head slightly to the side in confusion. He glanced up at Hermann who nodded affirmatively at the unasked question. He reached into the bag and took out the tie. His mouth went slack and he touched the fabric gently with his other hand. 

“You... you got this for me? For today?” Newt asked in disbelief. 

“Yes,” was all Hermann could manage in response. 

“Holy shit...” Newt just stared at it. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before asking. “But... isn’t it not as professional as the other one?” 

“Well, the pattern is subtle, after all,” Hermann responded quietly. 

“But Hermann, this was...” 

“Shh, I know. I wanted to.” 

Without thinking, he began loosening the tie Newton was wearing. He realized what he was doing with a flush, but it would be awkward to suddenly stop partway through so he pressed on. He set the colored tie aside and looped the gift around Newton’s neck in a deft, single motion. Newt took a small step forward to allow him easier access. He raised his chin up, eyes flicking back and forth, quietly studying Hermann’s face. 

It was hard to ignore the thought of how incredibly intimate this felt. Hermann’s practised fingers had the new tie done up and adjusted in moments. Newt continued to stand at close proximity, as if anchored in place. 

“How does it look?” he asked, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant as he glanced down and smoothed the fabric carefully. 

“It’s very ‘you’, Newton,” Hermann replied with a small smile. 

“And... is that a bad thing?” Newton was looking him in the eyes, unwavering. 

“Far from it,” Hermann said softly before putting a hand lightly on his colleague’s shoulder. “Now we should get going. We don’t want to be late.” 

Newton glanced at the wall clock. “Yikes, yeah. Let’s jet.” 

He jogged across the room and began carefully wheeling the apparatus ahead of him into the hall. The team wished them good luck as they exited and made their way to the small auditorium. Newton brought the machine to center stage and began getting set up for his exposition. Hermann stayed back in the wings, at the ready in case he was needed, but keeping a distance so as not to obstruct. 

Marshal Pentecost strode up onto the stage and the low baseline of chatter that thrummed in the room gave way to silence. He introduced the Kaiju Science Division briefly before ceding the floor to Newt. Hermann saw his colleague inhale and exhale deeply once, straighten his suit jacket and nod resolutely to him. 

He nodded back as Newton took his place behind the podium. Hermann assumed he would stay there, but he instead took the microphone off the lectern and into his hand. 

He spoke eloquently and comfortably, keeping his presentation cogent and clear. His explanations were intellectual yet accessible. Hermann could easily picture him in front of a classroom at MIT, speaking to students years his senior. He could only guess that Newton had cultivated his immaculate presentation style at that juncture in his life. Sometimes when the man spoke or explained things in the lab, he was all over the place, easily distracted and prone to tangents. But right now, he was methodical and sequenced. 

He recalled something Newton had said, a snippet of conversation from their brief meeting in Berlin. ‘ _You’d think, nerd school, I’d have major cred, right? That I’d be the campus rock star! But no one took me seriously. At all.’_

His skill then was defensive in nature, a way to ensure that people did not overlook him. But this level of comfort and ease could not be synthesized. Newton was quite simply at home in front of an audience. 

_But you already knew this,_ Hermann reminded himself thinking back to Newt’s charisma and presence behind his keyboard one chilly October evening when Hermann had seen his colleague for the first time, although he didn’t know it then. The man’s comfort in the spotlight was enviable. 

Hermann was lost in thought when suddenly he noticed Newton gesturing straight at him. 

_No, no, no._ He looked at his colleague, panic-stricken shaking his head violently, but Newton gestured again. 

Steeling himself, Hermann stepped out onto the stage as he heard Newton’s amplified voice through the sound system announce, “I just wanted to get my colleague Dr. Gottlieb out here for a second. He was instrumental in the conceptualization and execution of this project.” 

Hermann gave a respectful small bow to the audience who began to applaud. Newton came over and said very quietly away from the mic, “It’s cool, you don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to give credit where credit’s due.” 

Newton finished his presentation with a compelling cost benefit analysis and opened the floor up. Hermann stood at the ready to answer if needed, but none of the inquiries were directed at him. 

When there were no further questions, Newton thanked the committee and exited with the Milking Machine. Hermann followed him back to the wings as they waited for Marshal Pentecost. 

Newton whispered to Hermann quietly, his hand unconsciously smoothing the fabric of his new tie. “You think they liked it?” 

“Yes, I should say so. Your presentation was coherent and convincing.” 

“Hey, thanks,” Newt said, bumping his shoulder gently against Hermann’s. 

The Marshal gave a closing remark and then joined them briefly backstage. 

“Dr. Geiszler, Dr. Gottlieb,” his tone was calm yet authoritative as ever. “Excellent work. I’ll be stopping by the lab at fifteen hundred hours to let you know the results of your proposal.” 

Newton was understandably unable to sit still for the rest of the afternoon. He kept trying to work, but would sigh heavily and look at the clock at shorter and shorter intervals. He repeatedly attempted an incision on the sample in front of him, but apparently could not quite get his body angled properly. Dr. Chen eyed him with a hint of nervousness before finally speaking up. 

“Newt, you’re going to wreck your specimen if you’re not careful,” he chided in a friendly albeit slightly concerned tone. 

“Yeah,” Newt sighed. “Yeah, you’re right, man. I’m too antsy for this. I’m gonna pop out for a bit, just to walk, clear my head.” 

He returned forty five minutes later, sat at his desk and put on his headphones. The music roster had been temporarily shut off in anticipation of the Marshal’s arrival and the beat of whatever he was listening to was vaguely perceptible in the silence of the lab. He closed his eyes and nodded along, drumming his fingers on his desk. 

_No, not drumming,_ Hermann realized as he watched Newt’s fingers move nimbly in a seemingly random pattern up and down the workspace. _He’s playing the piano._

At exactly 15:00, Marshal Pentecost strode into the lab. Newt ripped his headphones off and stood up so quickly, he banged his knee on the desk, but rapidly limped to attention. 

It was the first time Hermann had ever seen Newton on edge like this but it was more than understandable given the circumstances. Moreover, it was strange in a way that it had taken this long to see his colleague in such a state of perturbation. 

“Dr. Geiszler, your presentation was quite convincing,” the Marshal said smoothly. “Your prototype has been approved for reproduction. We hope to deploy one each to the Shatterdomes in Sydney and Los Angeles. Once ready, I’d like you to visit both locations in person and assist with the installation.” 

“Wow...” was all Newt could manage. “Okay, um, wow. That’s, that’s great!” 

“I’ll send you the paperwork this afternoon to get the process started,” Pentecost stated. 

“O-okay!” 

The Marshal gave a small bow of acknowledgement to the rest of the team before exiting. The sound of his footfall faded steadily down the hallway. 

Newton stood dumbfounded for a silent moment before throwing both arms above his head in a comical victory pose. 

“Yes!! YES!!! You guys!!” he shouted, ecstatic and began to dance in place. 

The team gathered around him, patting him on the back and cheering. Chris pulled him into a huge hug and easily lifted him off the ground as he laughed breathlessly. 

“Newt, I’ve got tons of friends in L.A.,” she beamed. “They’ll show you a good time.” 

“This is so cool,” he said with a chuckle tinged with disbelief. 

Hermann felt relieved and happy for Newton. It was a truly remarkable machine that the other Shatterdomes would put to good use. 

That evening, the rest of the team left at the normal time. Newton was still buzzing with excitement and looking over the paperwork Pentecost had sent him. Hermann approached his colleague where he sat at his terminal, the blue light from the screen reflecting in the lenses of his glasses. 

“I just wanted to congratulate you, Newton,” Hermann said proudly. 

Newton gave him a smile so big that Hermann’s heart skipped a beat. “I seriously couldn’t have done it without you, dude,” he said. “It feels like you should be there with me.” 

“Nonsense,” Hermann said, shaking his head. “You are the subject matter expert.” 

“I know,” Newton said, leaning back before hopping up out of his chair. He closed the distance between them and gave Hermann a brief but tight hug. “I still wish you could come.” 

Hermann squeezed him back, but the moment was over too soon. Newton pulled away and Hermann immediately felt the loss of warmth. He remarked, not for the first time, how perfect Newton had felt in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made a realization in this chapter. I’m kind of obsessed with Newt’s wardrobe. I’ve described his clothing in practically every chapter, I just really like dressing him up for whatever reason. The funny bit is I can never decide if Hermann has no sense of fashion or if he just… knows his stuff but doesn’t care? 
> 
> Anyway, one of my favorite things ever is the boys being mistaken for a couple, so I had to throw that in here. And I really like the idea of Newt making fun of Hermann’s clothes but secretly loving them, which he sort of hints at a little bit. I mean, at least they’re at the point now where they can joke around a little with each other. Progress!!
> 
> I also spent way too much time looking up online “suits for short guys” because I really had no clue. There’s a surprising amount of info out there.
> 
> I’m really having a lot of fun writing Karla, I sort of made her a sass master this time around. But I really love the idea that she and Hermann are close, but also kind of bring out a childish streak in each other. I think it’s fairly common for adult siblings to regress just a tad around each other. 
> 
> I’m way too stuck into the classical musical terms chapter titles now, but it was really tempting to give this chapter title a silly name, like Sehr Gut Newt Suit or something equally dumb. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	9. Tremolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Wall of Life project is officially put into action, the first round of PPDC staff cuts throw the Shatterdome into turmoil. When Newt doesn’t show up to the send-off, Hermann goes searching for his missing colleague.

During the months that followed Newt’s presentation, he and Dr. Chen put the Milking Machine to good use. The apparatus worked exactly as expected and samples could be manipulated in record time and without risk of further biohazard incidents. 

The success of the project had given the entire team a morale boost which lasted for weeks and they reveled in collective productivity. The mathematics side of K-Science produced several reports which were well-received by the upper echelons of the PPDC. 

The only downside was that Hermann found his Saturdays starkly vacant. He had immensely enjoyed collaborating with Newton but now that the project was completed, there was limited crossover between the biology and math teams. He missed the feeling of getting up on a Saturday and knowing that he had a day ahead of him in Newton’s company. 

But soon he fell into a new pattern, heading to the gym in the morning for a workout and usually spending a half-day at the lab to continue progressing on the equations for his predictive model. Occasionally he would take a book to the roof and do some reading in the fresh air. He made a point to stay in better touch with Nolan, Natalie and Karla. After a few weeks of adapting to this new rhythm, he settled into a renewed feeling of stability. 

It was relatively short-lived. 

Approximately three months later, rumors resurfaced about an alternative solution to the Jaeger Program and this time it had a name; the ‘Wall of Life’ project plunged the world into controversy. 

Opinions were as divided as they were vocal on the initiative’s viability. Televised debates hammered both sides of the argument. The anti-wall faction decried the concept as an absurd impossibility of engineering, while the pro-wall camp insisted that the Jaeger program was ultimately doomed given the kaiju’s proven ability to outmaneuver the machines. 

The Shatterdome buzzed with anxiety. Personnel at all levels were perpetually glued to their screens, impulsively checking news sources for any scrap of information that might predict the Jaeger program’s fate. 

Three days later, the announcement came. 

A portion of the PPDC’s funding was being withdrawn to begin planning and construction of the Coastal Wall. 

Dr. Garcia heard the proclamation on the news before definite information was available internally. She immediately briefed the team. The temptation to catastrophize was nearly unbearable however, as Dr. Chen reminded his colleagues, there was little point engaging in panic-induced speculation without something more concrete. 

“Hermann?” Dr. Lamont called across the lab. “I think we need your hacker skills again.” 

Hermann nodded and positioned himself at his terminal, sliding his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. He preferred to abide by the rules when he could, but desperate times... 

He did not have to dig deep before finding the report. He accessed the file and scanned the document for salient information. In the interim, the other scientists had crowded around his desk, expressions wrought with varying manifestations of anxiety. 

“There are going to be cuts,” he paraphrased, eyes skimming his screen. “A significant portion of the PPDC budget is being diverted. Many nations have voted to reallocate funding to the Wall but according to this, the United Nations still wants kaiju and Breach related research to continue, as these fields are deemed essential. But Jaeger development and production...” he could hardly believe what he was reading, “...is to be halted, effective immediately.” 

“So, all the cuts are to J-tech?” Kay asked in disbelief. 

Hermann glanced to the side at Newton. 

“Everyone?” Newt asked with a carefully masked expression. 

Hermann read on. “The maintenance teams will be retained, keeping existing Jaegers functional as a transitory measure until the Wall is completed. But the J-tech Research and Development division is to be dismantled and no new Jaegers will be built.” 

A dead silence passed over the team. Newt’s expression had fallen completely. 

“I have to go...” his voice was quiet. 

He turned and rapidly exited the lab, leaving his colleagues staring after his retreating figure. 

The next day, Newt came in looking very, very tired, his usual exuberant energy conspicuously absent. He entered the room wordlessly, pulled a receptacle out of the chilled storage chamber and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. He put his headphones on, despite the ambient sounds of the lab music rotation and plunged immediately into his work. 

The other scientists shared a concerned look. Chris was predictably the one to check in on him. 

“Hey, little buddy,” she began and put a hand gently on his shoulder. “Are you doing okay?” 

He pulled off his headphones. “Sorry, Chris, I just...” 

She didn’t let him finish. “You look like you could use a coffee. Mess? My treat?” 

“The food in the mess is free for staff,” Newton stated flatly. 

“Like I said, my treat,” she grinned. 

He shook his head but chuckled slightly. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said and pulled off his gloves. 

Two hours later, Chris returned to the lab alone and let the team know that Newt was taking the rest of the day off. 

Hermann furrowed his brow in concern. He approached Chris, standing as unobtrusively as he could next to her desk. When she looked up, he asked in a hushed tone, “Is... ah, is Newton doing all right?” 

“Well, Ethan and his entire team are getting laid off. Everyone except their boss, who’ll be redesignated,” she sighed. “Apparently they’re all in shock.” 

“That is very unfortunate,” Hermann said, inspecting his statement internally for veracity. It was undeniable that he felt envious of Ethan’s closeness with Newton, but to wish any ill-fate to come of their relationship would be selfish and cruel. 

“Yeah, it sucks,” Chris agreed. “I asked Newt if they were gonna try to make it work long-distance. Apparently, Ethan wanted to, but Newt said he just can’t.” 

“Did he give a reason?” Hermann asked. He more than understood any reticence to engage in a long-distance relationship, but it seemed odd that Newton and Ethan had not been on the same page in that regard. 

“He’s...” Chris began but hesitated. She gave Hermann the tiniest smile and said simply, “You’d have to ask him yourself.” 

She leaned back in her chair and continued. “This whole situation really makes me mad. We’ve all given up so much to try and save this stupid planet. We don’t get to have normal lives. We don’t get to do the stuff that makes us happy. Maybe we never will. And as a thank you, what do we get? We get told that the only thing between us and the end is ‘not viable in the long term’ and we get cuts and no new Jaegers and...” her breath hitched in her throat. She swallowed and steadied her voice. “It just... it just sucks.” 

Hermann thought about Newton’s band. Another thing his colleague had given up in order to try and reel the world back from the tipping point of annihilation. He understood the sentiment far too well. With global extinction looming on the horizon, his conviction to give himself to the cause was one of the reasons he and Lukas had ended their relationship. _Although,_ Hermann mentally amended, thinking of the maelstrom he’d felt during his first meeting with Newton, _certainly not the only one._

Hermann put a tentative hand on Chris’ shoulder and squeezed lightly. She covered her eyes with her hands for just a moment, drawing in a shaking breath before regaining her composure. “God, it’s all so stupid and short-sighted. How could anyone with half a brain honestly think that you can wall off the coastline? Like, have they done the math on how many kilometers of...” she stopped and added with an embittered smile. “No, no, clearly they haven’t done the damn math. Guess that’s our job, huh?”

“I... suppose you’re right,” Hermann said, utterly exhausted.

*** 

The J-tech staff facing layoffs were given two weeks' notice and an unimpressive severance package which HR had explained was ‘the best they could do.’ 

Newt was only in the lab during mandatory hours and left as soon as the workday concluded. Hermann wondered what was going to happen to the planned trip to deploy the Milking Machine. He wanted to ask, but was afraid that if it had been cancelled, bringing it up would rub salt in his colleague’s already raw wound.

In the end he didn’t have to speculate for long; the HR Director Carol Delaine made an in-person visit to the lab to let the team know that there would be no cuts to K-Science due to the fact that kaiju data was valuable to the ‘Wall Effort,’ as she put it, and that regardless it was still in humanity’s best interest to close the Breach and predict the timing of kaiju attacks. She looked worn out and Hermann did not miss the way her diction harshened when speaking of the Wall.

Despite the alleged good news that there would be no cuts in their division, after the initial relief wore off, time crept forward in a haze of despondency. The bleak mood in the Shatterdome was infectious and the PPDC featured heavily in debates which continued to rage on about the Wall. It felt like the organization was being scrutinized under a microscope; every success or failure being put on display to be either commended or ripped apart. It was wearying to witness. 

Newt received confirmation that his deployment trip was going ahead in spite of the funding reallocations. He mentioned it to the K-Sci team in secret, asking that they not tell anyone else. It was difficult not to feel a certain level of guilt not only that their section was being spared but also being budgeted for travel.

The night before the J-tech R&D division’s last day, an all-staff party was held in the refectory for them as a thank you and a send-off. 

Hermann knew it would not be well looked upon to miss the event, so he left the lab to freshen up and have some time to center himself before having to deal with the crowd. When the time came, he sighed deeply before straightening his jacket and exiting his quarters.

He ran into Chris on the way to the mess hall. 

“Hey, Hermann,” Chris greeted him casually. “You ready for this?” 

“I suppose,” he said, resolute. “It would not look good if our entire section was absent.” 

“Probably not,” she agreed. 

They entered the room together and looked around to see if anyone they knew had arrived. Hermann marveled at the number of people already present. The Shatterdome had so many employees in such vastly different divisions that teams tended to work largely in silos. He recognized a small number of people, but from sight alone, not by name. 

“Ugh, I’m no good at parties like this,” Chris mumbled, looking slightly anxious. 

This came as a surprise to Hermann. Dr. Lamont always came across as casually self-assured in any situation he'd personally seen. 

“I’ve always found your outgoing nature quite enviable,” he said. 

“Oh, I’m super comfortable around people I know and like, but in a big group like this, I just never know who to talk to or what to say.” 

“Well, care to assist me in holding up the refectory wall then?” Hermann offered cordially. 

“Deal,” she grinned widely at him and then, looking behind him, exhaled with relief. “Oh thank god, Alex and Kay just walked in.”

Kay spotted them and waved cheerily as she and Alex began deftly weaving through the growing throngs of people.

“Hey you two,” she said when she was close enough to be heard.

“Did you get anything to drink yet?” Alex asked, joining Kay moments later and eyeing their empty hands. “I was just gonna head to the drink table. Want anything?” 

“I’ll have a beer or five,” Chris said, gladly taking him up on his offer. 

“Beer for me too,” Kay added. 

“Thank you, Alex,” Hermann said, relieved that he would not have to maneuver through the crowd. “I would not say no to a seltzer water.” 

Kay looked around the room. After a pause she lowered her voice and said to Hermann, “Do you think Newt’s planning to come tonight?” 

"I’ve been wondering the same,” Hermann said. “I suppose we will soon find out.” 

As more and more people poured into the hall, the overall noise level began to augment as well. Across the room, Hermann spotted someone he’d seen around the Shatterdome multiple times, although he was certain they had never been formally introduced. He appeared to recognize their group and made his way over to greet them. 

“Evening, folks,” the man said with an easy, sociable air once he was in earshot. “You all work with Newt, right?” 

"We do indeed. I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb,” Hermann said, extending his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.” 

“Tendo Choi,” the man said. “I used to be head of J-Tech R&D but, well... you know how that story ends. As of Monday, I’ll be stationed in LOCCENT.” 

Once the introductions had swung full circle, Kay asked. “So, how do you know Newt?” 

“Oh, Ethan is one of my staffers and a good buddy. Smart kid. He’s already got something lined up in the private sector. Anyway, Ethan brought Newt around more than a few times. Gotta admit, I was pretty surprised to see BVR’s keyboard player in the mess hall that night a while back.” 

With this new information, Hermann placed the man definitively. The evening when Ethan had approached their table in the refectory, Tendo was the one with whom Ethan had been debating. Newt had also nearly collided with him the day they’d taken the shuttle into town to purchase his suit and Newt had called to him from the rooftop the first night they’d gone up there for a break. Hermann was sure he’d seen the man around a number of other times as well. His unique bouffant hairstyle and iconic bow tie guaranteed his memorability. 

“You’re a fan of Newt’s band?” Alex asked. 

“Oh yeah, they’re great. Shame about the whole having to go on hiatus because humanity is on the brink of extinction thing. They were going straight to the top,” Tendo grinned and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m obviously not a super fan like Ethan though. I had to convince him for twenty minutes straight to even go over and talk to Newt. He was having a full-on meltdown about it, he was so nervous. Poor kid. He should be here soon I think. He wasn’t gonna bother, but I told him he’d probably regret it if he didn’t. Closure and all that,” Tendo said, looking casually around before leaning in and lowering his voice slightly. “He’s more than a little down about the whole thing. Not just the losing his job bit, but you know... he was pretty fond of your K-Sci boy.” 

“Yeah,” Chris said wistfully. “This whole thing sucks no matter which way you look at it.” 

“You’re telling me,” Tendo said, shaking his head. “I feel bad for my crew obviously, but to be honest, I feel worse for us folks left behind. A hell of a lot of human capital is gonna walk out that door tomorrow and it’s gonna make our lives a lot harder. Tonight we’re celebrating them, as we damn well should, but tomorrow it’ll be nose to the grindstone for the rest of us.” 

From the entranceway, a loud whoop echoed throughout the hall and the group turned to look. A number of J-Tech officers were fist bumping and knocking beer cans together which foamed up and spilled over onto the floor. 

“Anyway, great to properly meet you all,” Tendo said. “I’d love to chat longer, but I’m seeing more of my team arrive. Duty calls, you know?”

As he sauntered away, it struck Hermann just how true Tendo’s sentiment resonated. Kaiju Science would be, at least on a professional level, not nearly as affected as J-Tech. But gaps would be left in the structure of the Shatterdome that would not be filled. Whether direct or not, that would take its toll on all those who remained. 

An hour later and the party was well underway. Across the room, Hermann spotted Ethan enter the hall. His countenance was uncharacteristically and noticeably sullen. He was quickly bombarded and passed multiple cans of beer by his J-tech colleagues, likely others for whom this would be their last night in the Shatterdome. Hermann saw him force a smile and felt a wave of genuine sympathy for the man.

Kay followed Hermann’s gaze before concluding, “I guess Newt’s not coming.” 

“It would appear not,” Hermann said with a hint of uneasiness as his motivation to remain at the event drained away completely. He had come due to a sense of professional obligation but had only stayed this long anticipating that Newt would be here, and assumed his colleague would probably not want to be the only K-Science officer present. None of them had asked Newt about his plans in order to avoid broaching a topic that might potentially upset him, but now their reticence seemed absurd as they stood around collectively guessing at his whereabouts. It was amply possible that Newt could have benefitted from their company tonight and Hermann immediately felt the uncomfortable realization that he was not where he needed to be.

Kay looked at him for a moment, before gently taking his arm and pulling him to the side. “Hermann, it would look bad if the whole K-Sci team suddenly vanished, but if just you slipped out, I don’t think it would be an issue.” 

It was as if she had intuitively sensed what he was thinking and she added quietly, “I’m worried about him too.”

Hermann nodded resolutely and made a subtle exit. A thought occurred to him as he was leaving, and he pulled out his phone, opened an application, and a few clicks later received a confirmation. He pocketed the device and was about to set off first for the lab, when a voice behind him called his name. 

“Dr. Gottlieb...” 

Hermann turned to see Ethan walking down the hall towards him. 

“E-Ethan,” he stuttered slightly. He felt slightly embarrassed that he had seen Ethan arrive, but had departed without a single word to him. He said the most socially appropriate thing he could think of under the circumstances. “I am so dreadfully sorry to hear the news about the cuts.” 

“Yeah...” Ethan stood in front of him, staring at the floor. His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked tired. 

Hermann had no idea what more to say or why the J-tech officer had approached him. He cleared his throat, grasping at something that sounded neither callous nor flippant. “I hear you have an opportunity lined up in the private sector?” 

“Yeah,” Ethan offered him an automatic and empty smile before saying, “Dr. Gottlieb... can I ask you something?” 

“O-of course,” Hermann managed. 

“About Newt...” Ethan said slowly. 

Hermann’s vision tunneled. He had been so careful to never give away the way he felt about Newton but he scanned his memories in a desperate flash, trying to recall a single time when he had done or said something... anything that could have exposed him. Ethan spoke again before he landed on anything substantial. 

“It’s just...” Ethan didn’t make eye contact. “Um... it’s just that he...” 

Hermann held his breath in anticipation. 

“Sometimes... sometimes Newt forgets to take breaks,” he blurted out. “He gets really stuck into stuff and forgets. And he works himself beyond the point of exhaustion sometimes and... and I just... will you please make sure he...” he trailed off, the words seemingly stuck in his throat. 

Hermann steadied his voice as best he could before speaking. “I’ll make sure he takes care of himself.” 

Ethan looked Hermann in the eyes for the first time since their conversation began. “Newt, he... he really thinks highly of you...” 

Hermann was unsure what to say, but Ethan turned to go, smiling sadly. “Thank you, Dr. Gottlieb. Hang in there, okay?” 

“You as well, Ethan,” Hermann nodded and watched the man return slowly to the mess hall. 

He stood a moment longer silently, collecting his thoughts. He was unsure what to think other than feeling terribly sad for Ethan. His mind was oddly still as he watched the other man go through the entrance of the refectory and disappear into the crowd. He put his hand on the wall for a moment, suddenly remembering to inhale.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and snapped him out of his stupor. He absently checked it. Fifteen minutes to go. He came back to the present and back to his current quest. Hopefully that would be time enough to locate his missing colleague. He proceeded to the lab. 

As he approached, he could tell from the quiet that it was unoccupied. The lights were off and unless Newton was sitting alone in the dark, he was certainly not here. He double checked regardless but found the lab empty. The kaiju specimen samples glowed eerily in their formalin receptacles, floating soundlessly in the liquid. Hermann suppressed a shudder and turned to go. 

He moved on to Newton’s room. As he stood outside the door, he strained to listen for any signs of life from within. It had been a long time since he had found himself on the steps outside of Newton’s quarters. He could almost imagine the piano notes he had longed to hear for months flowing out into the passageway. He placed his hand gently on the door and paused, attentive to any indication of his lab mate’s presence, but it seemed he was not here either.

He checked his phone again. Five minutes to go, just enough time to quickly pop back to his own room. He grabbed his wallet and gave his hair a quick fix while he was at it before setting off towards the public entrance of the Shatterdome. 

Shortly after, Hermann was holding a piping hot pizza box in his arms along with a bag full of beers. If not in the lab or his room, he had a fairly good idea of where he might find Newton. If he was still on the premises at all, there was really only one place left. 

He wound through the hallways until he came to a service door, which he pushed open with his cane. He ascended the stairs to the roof, awkwardly juggling his armload. 

He gave the door a good, hard shove with his shoulder and it gave way with a creak. Suddenly, the smell of the salt air was all around him as he inhaled deeply and stepped outside. He looked over to the railing facing the ocean and saw the back of a lone figure standing, elbows resting on the bar. 

_There you are,_ he thought with relief. 

As he approached, Newt turned around, squinting into the darkness. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

The floodlights of the tarmac were perpetually lit, like a large metal lighthouse on the edge of the ocean, but the rooftop itself had no light sources. 

“Hermann?” Newt questioned, replacing his glasses and adjusting them as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You didn’t go to the party?”

“I did for a little while,” Hermann said. “But it’s Friday night and as you’ve said before, K-Sci pizza night is a time-honored and sacred tradition.” He gestured to the box he was holding. 

Newt stared at it dumbfounded for a moment, at a rare loss for words. Hermann shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “With the refectory converted to a party room, I thought perhaps you hadn’t eaten." 

A tiny, lop-sided grin tugged at the corner of Newt’s mouth. “You know what? I haven’t and I’m seriously starving.” 

He reached forward to help Hermann with his armload. Newt sat down, back to the railing and Hermann joined him. He set the pizza between them and opened the box. 

“Dude,” he exclaimed. “This is awesome. Half pineapple, half without.” 

“Well, I know you love your pizza with fruit on it,” Hermann said matter-of-factly as he offered Newton a beer, which his colleague eagerly cracked open and took a deep drink, “because you are a heathen.” 

Newt sputtered a laugh between sips as Hermann looked into the delivery bag. “I’m sorry, Newton, we don't have any plates or napkins. We usually have access to them in the refectory.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Newt said as he wolfed down his first piece and unceremoniously grabbed another. “Honestly, man... this is perfect.” 

He took another long swig of beer as Hermann cracked open his first of the evening. 

“To K-Sci pizza night,” Newt raised the can above his head as Hermann mirrored the action. 

“Prost!” Hermann said in answer and took a long drink, as the tension he had been feeling began to dissipate. He was happy to have left the party, but he was mostly relieved to have found Newton and more relieved still that his lab mate seemed pleased to see him. 

“How did you know I’d be up here?” Newt asked, looking up at the sky. A dusting of stars was slowly twinkling into view despite the light pollution of the neon city and the Shatterdome. An almost full moon in the cloudless sky cast a cool light upon the rooftop. 

“It was a gamble. I had already checked the lab and your room. If you hadn’t been up here, in truth I would have been somewhat at a loss,” Hermann admitted. 

“Well, I’m glad you found me,” Newt said, not taking his eyes off the night sky. “I mean, I kind of wanted to be alone, but I also really, really didn’t want to be alone.” He shook his head, “I know that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“No, I understand exactly what you mean,” Hermann matched his gaze upwards. Newton didn’t say anything for a while and Hermann guarded the silence to allow his colleague to guide the conversation. 

When Newt finally spoke, he changed the subject. “You know, if you let your eyes adjust for a while out here, you can actually see a decent number of stars.” 

It was true. Albeit in a placement different from what he was used to, Hermann’s eyes traced the outlines of familiar constellations. 

“It’s ironic in a way,” Newt said, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on the railing and craning his neck up. “We used to spend so much time and scientific energy looking up into the sky. Now all we do is look down into the water.” 

He sighed and took another slice of pizza, seemingly lost in thought. He didn’t speak for a long time. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but Hermann felt at ease to fill it. 

“I used to do a lot of stargazing,” he reminisced. “I had a map of all the constellations in my room and I used to draw them out sometimes in my school notebooks.” 

“Oh my god, were you one of those dorks with the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars stuck all over your bedroom ceiling?” 

“I was, in fact,” Hermann smiled fondly at the memory; the way the artificial stars would illuminate his room with an almost otherworldly light. He would stare up at them until his eyelids became heavy. The shapes of the glowing stars were almost always the last thing he saw before drifting off. 

“Heh, wicked, me too. I thought they looked cool,” Newt grinned. “So, did you want to work for NASA or something?” 

“Actually, I wanted to be a pilot. I had so many model planes, I used to imagine flying them,” Hermann said pensively. It was something he had not thought about in years. It surprised him that the memory had surfaced and more surprising still, that he had told Newton without hesitation. He usually avoided speaking about his childhood to anyone but he felt oddly comfortable elaborating. 

“I even entertained the vague hope of being a Jaeger pilot, if you can believe that. But once it was apparent that wasn’t going to be possible for me, I set all that aside,” Hermann said, as he looked to the side at Newton. “Dreams change, I suppose.” 

“Or, in your case, dreams get massively taken to the next level,” Newt said, eyes fixed on the sky. 

“How do you mean?” Hermann inquired. 

“Think about it. I mean, being a pilot is cool and all, but you had a hand in writing the code for the Mark-1 series. You literally helped create the Jaegers. That’s way more badass than being a pilot.” 

Hermann lifted his head to look back up to the sky. He had never once thought of it from that angle but Newton spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I... admit I’ve never framed it that way.” 

“You should, dude. Without you, there wouldn’t _be_ anything to pilot,” Newt said, grabbing another beer. “You never mentioned any of that stuff before.” 

“Sorry?” Hermann asked.

“Back when we were writing letters I mean,” Newt explained. “You never mentioned the whole pilot thing.” 

Hermann started a moment at the word ‘letters’, realizing it was the first time Newton had broached the topic. The first time either of them had. Since their Berlin meeting, it was almost as if that part of their shared history had been erased. It made sense. It had been something deeply personal between them that had been marred by the breakdown that followed; something they had both lost. But now Newton brought it up as if it had never been a subject to avoid. It felt like a buried part of their shared history had been unearthed. 

As all these thoughts passed through Hermann’s mind, he realized he had not responded. He had sat silently staring in awe at Newton, his heart swelling with familiar fondness at the man who knew more about his life than anyone else. Newt eventually returned his gaze with a quirked eyebrow and a smile.

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“No, it’s just...” Hermann began. “You’re right. I never mentioned it previously. I don’t often talk about my childhood I suppose.” 

Newt nodded contemplatively. He looked wordlessly at Hermann for a beat longer before returning his eyes upwards. “So, tell me about the stars.” 

“What do you want to know?” Hermann asked, grabbing another slice of pizza. He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been and a little overindulgence once in a while never hurt. 

He covertly checked the beer supply. _Still plenty left,_ he thought with satisfaction. As long as they had consumables, it justified their remaining outside. The pizza and beer were like anchors that moored them to the roof and to the night and to their conversation. 

“Whatever you wanna tell me, man,” Newt said. “Here, I’m about to demonstrate the extent of my astronomical knowledge. By which I mean ‘of astronomy’, not ‘really big’, okay?” 

He pointed above to a patch of stars. “That’s the Big Dipper.” 

Hermann waited for Newton to continue. 

“So, uh, I can tell you’re waiting for me to continue,” Newt said. “But that’s it. I’m done.” 

Hermann recovered from his slight surprise and asked, “Do you know what constellation it is a part of?”

“Wait, it’s not even a constellation?” Newt looked dismayed. “I only know one and it's not even a constellation? That’s tragic for me.” 

“Well, technically it’s an asterism,” Hermann clarified. “It’s a smaller cluster of stars that forms a recognizable pattern but is not itself a constellation. It’s part of Ursa Major.” 

“Okay, okay, I learned a thing,” Newt grinned. “What else you got?” 

“Let’s see,” Hermann pointed upwards. Newton tried unsuccessfully to follow the trajectory of his finger before sliding the pizza box out of the way and scooting in closer to Hermann to better follow his line of sight. Hermann flushed slightly as his personal space was entirely but not unpleasantly invaded. 

“That’s the Little Dipper,” Hermann continued, recentering himself. 

“I feel like I could have guessed that one,” Newt murmured. 

“The brightest star there is Polaris,” Hermann said, waiting until he saw that Newt had followed the line of his finger. 

“Uh, the North Star, right?” 

“Right,” Hermann shifted his attention. “And over this way is Orion, with the three stars lined up in a row.” 

“Oh, the guy with the belt,” Newt nodded. 

“I’m beginning to think you know more than you realize,” Hermann chuckled at his colleague, momentarily putting his hand down to take another sip from his beer. 

“What else?” Newt urged.

“That one is Draco,” Hermann pointed. “See the head there and the winding tail?” 

“Sweet name, but I don’t see it,” Newt said squinting upwards. Hermann moved a bit closer and tried to get his pointer finger directly above Newton’s line of sight. 

“Find the Big Dipper again,” Hermann instructed.

“Okay,” Newt nodded. 

“Now look over slightly to your-” 

“Got it!” Newt enthused and prompted, “Keep going.” 

“Hmmm,” Hermann scanned the sky momentarily. “That one is Pegasus.” 

“Huh?” 

“See it’s like a box with three handles?” Hermann explained, tracing the outline with his finger. 

“How is _that_ supposed to represent a winged horse, man?” his lab mate looked almost offended. 

“Well, I didn’t name them _myself,_ Newton,” Hermann retorted. 

“I feel like that one... basically? Is just another dipper but they already had two and didn’t wanna seem lame. Constellations are such bullshit, man. Everything is just a damn dipper!” 

Hermann chuckled quietly. “No plans to get a PhD in astronomy then?”

“Well... I wasn’t,” Newt laughed loudly. “But after tonight, maybe I will. Yeah, maybe I’ll go for lucky number seven after we save the world! Just for the hell of it.”

“Just for the hell of it?” Hermann repeated incredulously but he did not miss the way his colleague had stated that he might pursue another ill-advised advanced degree after they had ‘saved the world.’ His optimism seemed to be returning. It had worried him to see Newton so down these past two weeks but he appeared to be coming around to himself again. The man was nothing if not resilient. 

“Yeah, why not? Also, I feel like it would annoy you slightly,” Newt added. “So that’s obviously a huge bonus.” 

“I can’t think of a worse reason to get a doctorate,” Hermann chided but could not contain the amused laughter he felt bubbling up in his chest at his colleague’s ridiculous proclamation. 

“Are you kidding me? I can’t think of a better reason than that!”

Hermann shook his head and sighed good-humoredly. The bass thump of the party could be heard in the distance and every now and then a group of people would wander out onto the tarmac with loud _wooooos_ that echoed off the water, chatting and laughing before going back inside. 

“You know,” Newt said. “I’ve been thinking, when I go to Sydney and L.A. for work... I might take a couple weeks of personal leave beforehand and head to Boston. Like, if I’m doing that crazy long flight across the Pacific anyway, may as well make the most of it. I have way too much vacation time right now, HR keeps threatening me.” 

Hermann could not remember when he had seen Newton take vacation previously. There was a certain reticence among everyone on the base to use their allotted leave given the urgency of the work they did. HR had more than once had to launch a campaign to encourage it, stating that their work reality was a marathon, not a sprint. But Newton took even less time than most. 

“I think that’s a marvelous idea, Newton,” Hermann said. “I’ve yet to see you take time and you must be exhausted.” 

“Can I be honest with you, dude? I am _beyond_ tired. And...” Newt looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I just think I need some time away, you know? To figure some stuff out.” 

He hesitated a moment, looking away, and continued, “I could see the gang, maybe get in touch with my tattoo artist and get my chest piece underway.”

“I am certain the break would do you good,” Hermann affirmed. 

“Yeah, man. I really think I need it.” 

“I know you're well aware of this, but I feel the need to say it,” Hermann stated. “You can't be effective if you’re exhausted.” It was not the first time he’d seen Newton push himself to the brink. It was a tendency Hermann had known about his colleague for ages and Ethan had echoed the sentiment earlier this evening.

“I wanna argue the point... but you’re not wrong,” Newt said.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find another point to argue,” Hermann deadpanned. “I have faith.” 

Newt let out a burst of laughter before going quiet for a moment. 

“Hermann...” he finally said. “I’m really glad you found me.” He reached out and wrapped a friendly arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “And, you know, fed me.” 

Hermann grinned. Normally he did not appreciate being on the receiving end of physical displays of affection, but Newt felt warm and comfortable next to him. They sat that way for a long time in amiable silence until eventually Newton shifted and began to stand up. 

“I guess we should probably call it a night, huh?” he sighed and offered a hand to help Hermann to his feet before collecting the empty cans in the bag. He reached down to grab the pizza box. 

“Can I, uh... keep the rest of this pizza?” Newt asked. “I have big plans tomorrow to not leave my room, watch movies and eat junk food all day and cold pizza for breakfast would be the icing on the cake,” he paused. “Wait, scratch that, the actual icing will be the icing on the cake. I bought myself a sadness cake.” 

“You’re more than welcome to it,” Hermann chuckled. 

They walked across the rooftop to the door and down the stairs to the main hallway. Hermann had consumed a decent number of beers and kept a steadying hand on the wall during his descent. 

When they emerged into the passageway, they could hear the distant thudding bass of the party, which made no signs of ending any time soon. 

As they came to the intersection of the corridor that led to their separate rooms, Newt hesitated for a moment. 

“Thanks again,” he said, looking serious. “For the pizza and... everything.” 

“Rest well, Newton,” Hermann said just as a particularly loud cheer could be heard echoing down the hallway from the direction of the refectory. “If indeed that will be possible tonight.” 

He turned to make his way back to his room. 

“Good night, man,” Newt’s voice said behind him. 

“Good night,” Hermann said. 

Despite the fact that it had been a long day which had not gone in any manner as expected, as Hermann walked down the passageway leading to his quarters, he felt energized. He had forgotten how much he loved stargazing and it seemed to have served perfectly as a distraction for Newton. 

Checking his phone, he saw that Kay had messaged him quite some time ago asking if he’d located their colleague afterwards. Despite the late hour, he quickly replied to let her know that he had found Newton and they’d eaten dinner together. Clearly she was monitoring her messages and he received a smiley face reply within seconds.

Right before turning in for the night, he gave his personal email a final once over and was surprised to see an email from Nolan with some tentative dates for the proposed trip to Hong Kong. 

________________________________ 

From: Nolan Meier <blackvelvetbadass@gmail.com>

Date: Wednesday, February 2, 2022 at 9:05 PM 

Subject: HK is a go!!!!!

To: Hermann Gottlieb <hermann.gottlieb@ppdc.hk.com>

Hey Hermann, 

How’s it going?! Hope everything’s awesome in PPDC land! I’ll cut straight to the chase. Nat and I were thinking of coming to Hong Kong around your birthday in June for ten days. Let me know if there are any times around then that work (or don’t work) for you. 

Thanks for sending the hotel info, the place looks great. And especially if they have some kind of corporate rate, then I’d say we’re sold. 

Let me know and looking forward to it! 

-Nolan 

________________________________ 

After writing Nolan back, Hermann had just begun to prepare for bed when a loud crash was heard from the hallway outside his room. The metal flooring forgave no misplaced footstep, and the sounds of stumbling and laughing rang out, echoing loudly down the corridor. 

_It was definitely going to be one of those nights._

Hermann sighed, resolute, and dug out his earplugs before clicking off the light. 

*** 

A number of months later, Newton was standing in the lab with a suitcase. Just as he’d mentioned to Hermann, he had requested personal leave prior to the work portion of his trip. He would spend two weeks in Boston before flying to Los Angeles and Sydney for a week each respectively to install and demo the Milking Machine. He was currently waiting around for the transport crew to arrive and pack up the two replicas of the apparatus that would join him in each location.

Chris sat on the edge of her desk, feet dangling over the side as Newt leaned on a wall close by. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a whole month! We’re gonna miss you, you tiny bastard,” Chris grinned at him. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll survive somehow,” Newt chuckled back. 

“So, what will you get up to in Boston?” Alex asked.

“Well, I’ve got a bunch of staggered tattoo appointments booked to get my chest piece done. Gonna do coffee with some of my old MIT professors. You know, the cool ones. Oh, and have drinks with a few of my former grad students." 

Chris cut in. “You know, it’s not unethical to hook-up with a _former_ grad student, right?” 

“Ha!” Newt let out a surprised burst of laughter. “You are the best but also... the worst. Anyway, mostly gonna see the gang a bunch.” 

“Your band?” Kay asked.

“Yeah,” Newt said. “We’ll probably just hang out most of the time, but we’ll definitely jam. They’ve already got a second-hand keyboard there waiting for me.” 

The transport team entered at that moment and Newt oversaw the pack up. As it became clear that they were almost finished, the K-Sci team began to hover around the exit to see him off. He stood in front of them all and said cheerfully, “Try not to miss me too much.” 

And then he was gone.

In the flurry of the exit, Hermann realized he hadn’t said anything. He felt immediately embarrassed. He should have wished his colleague well. He held his phone in his hand, staring at it for far too long. It would not seem out of place if he sent a text message now but he replaced it on his desk. The same paralysis he had felt every time he’d tried to write Newton a letter overcame him. He told himself he was being ridiculous; that he could just send a little message off and stop berating himself about it. 

Finally, he took up his phone to text a message, talking himself in and out of the idea multiple times before he eventually resolved to just type something and hit send. 

14:05 [Hermann Gottlieb] Greetings Newton, I hope you have a good trip, both personally and professionally.

He didn’t hear back for the better part of a day, which was expected given the length of the flight across the Pacific. An untold stretch of hours later, his phone buzzed with Newton’s response. 

It was a selfie of Newt and his friends who Hermann instantly recognized as the other members of the Black Velvet Rabbits. He looked happy to the point of giddy in a way that Hermann had rarely seen. He smiled widely at the picture. 

11:26 [Newton Geiszler] It’s off to a damn good start!!! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back on the rooftop again for an impromptu picnic and stargazing! I know we’ve been here before, but there are only so many places to be alone in the Shatterdome and anything to allow the boys to stargaze together. The last time they came up here, Newt talked a bit about his life. This time, it’s Hermann’s turn to open up, surprising himself with his comfort level talking candidly with Newt about topics he usually prefers to avoid. I like the idea that Newt has some weird knowledge gaps, and maybe astronomy is one of them. Or maybe Newt knows a ton about the subject, but wanted to let Hermann gush about the stars. It’s never 100% clear with Newt in this story, is it? ;)
> 
> Speaking of Newt’s idiosyncrasies; some notes about Ethan. This is a Newmann fic, so the end of their relationship was inevitable. But like Hermann and Lukas, Newt and Ethan’s split was not a case of things exploding or going down in flames. Circumstances changed and there was an insufficient foundation to make it work past a certain point. But there was also a base incompatibility. My take on it is that Newt has always wanted to be a rock star and actually was well on his way to being a rock star until duty called and he had to step up and save the world. But a part of him grasps constantly for that life and misses it, so no mystery why he was drawn to someone who admires him for that aspect of himself. Ethan reminds him of a part of his life that he still yearns for and he sees that image of himself reflected in Ethan. On the surface, they have a lot in common; they have similar interests, but Ethan does not engage Newt on an intellectual level or challenge him to develop or advance as a person. He just kind of… thinks Newt is awesome and tells him as much. Which obviously Newt likes, who wouldn’t? But it’s superficial and ultimately not enough to survive a life curveball. Plus, there may or may not be more complex feelings at play here for Newt as his friendship with Hermann deepens ;)
> 
> Next up, Newt’s trip to L.A. and Sydney! Nolan and Natalie visit Hermann in Hong Kong! Other stuff!
> 
> I also just want to say, I am so grateful for the lovely, amazing comments folks have left. I really can’t tell you how happy it makes me to know that there are people out there who are enjoying reading this story.


	10. Giocoso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt’s work trip ends early, putting him back in the Shatterdome ahead of schedule and Hermann has his first night out on the town in Hong Kong.

Just over two weeks after Newton’s departure, Hermann picked Nolan and Natalie up from the Hong Kong airport. As soon as Nat spotted him, she waved enthusiastically, took a running start and drew him into a crushing hug. Nolan joined her and gave Hermann a pat on the back which transitioned into an even tighter hug than Natalie’s had been. 

It was good to see them in person after over two years.

Hermann brought them to their hotel, took a seat in the lobby bar and ordered himself a tea, telling them to take as long as they needed to sort themselves out. They joined him less than fifteen minutes later wearing fresh clothes, apparently ready to get going. 

“Are you sure you don’t need more time to get settled?” Hermann inquired. “I’m perfectly happy to wait.” 

“All good, bro,” Nolan grinned, throwing a friendly arm around him. “We’ll crash tonight, but we wanna see you and stretch our legs. That flight is _brutal.”_

“Touché,” Hermann agreed. “Are you hungry at all?” The spot where Newt had treated him to lunch during their suit shopping excursion wasn’t far. “I know a dim sum place nearby which is quite good.” 

“I could destroy some dim sum right now,” Nat enthused. 

Hermann hadn’t had much opportunity to explore the city, despite his tenure in Hong Kong. It was far too easy to get stuck into the microcosm of the Shatterdome and the work culture somewhat encouraged it. Having guests in town was the perfect excuse to rectify this and play tourist. He would have to check into the lab occasionally, but was grateful for a rare period of personal leave that would grant a modicum of mental distance. 

“So, what sorts of things would you like to get up to during your stay?” Hermann asked once they were seated at the restaurant.

Nat immediately pulled out her phone as Nolan rolled his eyes affectionately. “Well,” she began, “I’ve been looking online and... obviously we _have_ to do Ocean Park and the Big Buddha and maybe we could do the Space Center on your birthday if you’re up for it? The Museum of History and Nan Lian garden also seem worth it. And then just whatever else we feel like.” 

“That all sounds doable,” Hermann affirmed. 

“Honest opinion,” Nolan turned to Hermann. “Is it safe to visit Reckoner’s remains?” 

“Ah, the Bone Slums,” Hermann said. “The security briefing we were given upon arrival did not recommend going there. But it can be seen from any vantage point in the city.”

“Oh and did you find out about the Shatterdome tour?” Nolan asked, remembering his previous request.

“There will be one next Friday,” Hermann stated. “I can sign us up if you like.” 

"That’d be rad,” Nolan said. “It’d be cool to check out where you work and see a real Jaeger up close.” 

“More importantly,” Natalie wiggled her eyebrows at Hermann. “When are we going to meet the infamous Dr. Geiszler?” 

“Unfortunately, he had a work engagement and is out of town for a prolonged period,” Hermann said. “He’s due back later in the evening on the day you depart.” 

“Aww,” Nat said in disappointment. “I really wanted to hang out with him.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Nolan echoed, also obviously let down by the revelation. “You should invite him next time we have a video chat.” 

Hermann muttered something non-committal. Nolan and by extension Natalie, knew that Hermann had exchanged letters with his colleague Dr. Geiszler for years. There was no way to minimize Newton’s importance in his life and it was natural they would want to meet him. 

The conundrum was that they would instantly recognize him as Doc and Newton kept his double life private for good reason. Hermann had agonized over this logistical problem until he had learned the timing of his colleague’s return. In the end, he supposed, it had worked itself out.

*** 

On Friday before noon, Nolan and Natalie arrived by cab to the Shatterdome. Hermann met them at the front entrance and escorted them to the security checkpoint. Although there was an initiative to educate the public about the PPDC, it was still a secure facility and visitors were vetted before entering.

A small crowd had begun to gather. Ironically since the announcement regarding the Coastal Wall, the tours had increased in popularity. 

_One last chance for the general public to see the Jaegers before they are rendered obsolete_ , Hermann thought morosely. 

The guide came out and introduced himself to the group before noticing Hermann and greeting him cordially. Hermann recognized the young man as one of the junior staffers who had assisted with his bags on orientation day. 

The guide turned to the assembled group, did a quick head count and began the tour with a history of K-day and the world’s Shatterdomes. He led them into the facility and to the Kwoon Combat Room, LOCCENT mission control and the Drivesuit Room, enthusiastically giving information about the science and lore of Drift technology. The final stop on the tour, and the true draw for most, was the Jaeger hangers. 

As the group walked into the cavernous warehouse, an awed silence descended over them and all eyes were focused on the massive machines towering above. Hermann observed his friends for a moment. Seeing Nolan and Natalie’s expressions of amazement filled him with a sense of pride. The operations of the Shatterdome, this world of advanced robotics and alien science had become normal, almost banal to him in its familiarity. But seeing it through the eyes of his guests gave him a renewed sense of wonderment. 

“Hermann,” Nolan’s voice was reverent, his gaze fixed on the gargantuan Jaegers. “You really worked on the code for the first series of these things?” 

“Yes,” Hermann said. “Although those iterations looked different than the models you see before you.” 

Natalie shook her head slowly in disbelief, eyes slightly glassy. “Every damn person on the planet needs to see the amazing work you’re all doing.” 

After the tour, they took lunch in the mess hall; an option not allowed for the general public, but permitted with an officer as an escort. 

Nolan chattered excitedly, rehashing his favorite parts of the tour as Natalie finished off a chocolate pudding cup. All of a sudden, she gripped his arm tightly and her jaw went slack. Nolan started at the abrupt contact and glanced in the direction she was looking. His eyes went wide. 

Before Hermann could begin to process what was happening, Newton was standing next to them. 

“Hey man,” he said to Hermann with a casual smile. “How’s it going?”

Hermann stared up at his colleague from his seated position. His hair was slightly damp from a recent shower and he was wearing a black t-shirt, dark blue skinny jeans and red, well-worn high tops. His body art had expanded and his new ink was visible above the neckline of his shirt. 

“We finished ahead of schedule, so I’m back a couple days early,” Newt explained, seeing Hermann’s expression of confusion. He looked across at Nolan and Natalie and extended a hand in greeting. 

“Hey, I’m Newt Geiszler. I work with this nerd right here,” he gestured to Hermann. 

There was a long moment of silence before Nolan abruptly yelled, “HERMANN!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” 

“Um...” Newt took a step back and Hermann looked at him with what he hoped conveyed some semblance of apology. 

Nolan jumped up out of his seat and shook Newt’s hand enthusiastically. “YOU’RE Newton Geiszler?!”

“Um... yes...?” 

Natalie followed suit, leaping up and making a high pitched squee-ing noise. 

Newt shot Hermann a look of helpless confusion at the sudden onslaught. Hermann opened his mouth to speak but Nolan cut him off. 

“Hermann, you have some serious explaining to do. You mentioned your pen-pal turned K-Sci bro, like, a thousand times, but... oh my god!” he said before turning his attention back to Newt. “Sorry, hi, I’m Nolan. I’m Hermann’s old college roommate. This is my girlfriend Natalie. And we’re _HUGE_ fans of BVR, man, I can’t even tell you.”

“Oh... OH! Hey, that’s great, dude,” Newt regained his composure with this new information. 

“So, it _is_ you, right?” Natalie said, disbelief still apparent. “Like, you’re not some random genius science guy who just looks a hell of a lot like Doc?”

“Nah, it’s me,” Newt chuckled.

“For real though, Hermann!” Nolan turned to his friend with his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe you never told me about your pen-pal slash co-worker's secret identity!” He paused for a moment before amending. “Yeah, now I hear it. That would have been super shitty of you. Also, wow, man. You can keep a secret like nobody’s business, huh?” he added, patting Hermann on the back. 

“So, when did you figure all this out?” Natalie asked, unaware of the complexity of her inquiry. 

Newt just folded his arms and watched Hermann, an interested grin twitching slightly at the corner of his mouth. 

“Well,” Hermann started carefully. “Dr. Geiszler avoided having photos of himself associated with his publications, so it wasn’t until we met in person that it came to light.”

“I bet you had _sooooo_ much to talk about,” Natalie cooed.

Hermann cringed, avoiding looking at Newton who was observing the situation with uncharacteristic reserve and, if he had to guess, characteristic amusement.

“Anyway, Newt, we’re super happy you’re back early and we can hang out with you,” Nolan said. “We thought we were gonna miss the chance with your work trip and all, but I guess we got lucky! We were gonna grab some noodles tonight if you wanna join?” 

Newt hesitated and glanced quickly to Hermann. “I mean, that’d be fun but,” he said, faltering. “I don’t want to crash the reunion.”

“Nonsense. You are, of course, more than welcome,” Hermann affirmed. He sensed Newton’s reticence was more to give him an out rather than a desire to avoid the engagement, but just to be sure, he added, “As long as you’re not too worn out from your trip?” 

“No, man,” Newton said. “You know me. I was cooped up in a plane for _hours_. I’ve got energy to burn.” 

“Right, well, Nolan, Natalie, I have a few things to sort out in the lab before this evening,” Hermann said. “I’ll see you to the exit. Newton and I can meet you at your hotel and go to the restaurant from there.”

*** 

Later that evening, Hermann stood outside of Newt’s room. He drew in a steadying breath and knocked softly. His lab mate answered so quickly that Hermann deduced he must have been waiting just inside the door. He was wearing the same outfit as before but with the addition of his leather jacket, a fresh coat of black nail polish and the vest he’d bought with his suit.

Hermann made every effort to keep his eyes fixed upwards as he steeled himself internally. It was going to be torture to spend an entire evening with Newton wearing that damned waistcoat.

“Uh, hey,” Newt grinned unevenly and made only a brief eye contact before averting his gaze to the floor. 

“Ready to go then?” Hermann asked and Newt nodded. 

He turned to depart and made it halfway down the hall before noticing that his colleague was not following. 

“Um, wait up, dude,” Newt hung back, hands crammed into the pockets of his jacket. “It’s just, uh, your buddy invited me and didn’t really consult with you first...” he drew in a breath and finally looked at Hermann. “I don't wanna intrude.”

“Newton, truly, I would be delighted if you would join us,” Hermann said, making sure that his lab mate looked him in the eyes to see that he meant it.

“Yeah?” Newt asked hesitantly.

Hermann nodded assuringly and Newton’s entire demeanor changed back to his normal upbeat baseline. 

“Alright! Let’s go get some fucking noodles!!” he pumped his fist and fell into step with Hermann as they made their way towards the exit.

Within ten minutes they were sitting side by side on the shuttle into town. Their thighs were touching slightly and Hermann could feel a subtle heat radiating from his colleague. He had been irrationally nervous that after a month apart, conversation might not flow easily and he’d pre-planned a handful of topics for the ride to avoid any long stretches of silence. But the comfortable familiarity he felt in Newt’s presence was instantly restored.

“So, what brought you back early?” Hermann asked, as the shuttle began to pull out of the lot. 

“Nothing bad, we finished ahead of schedule and there were some other PPDC folks flying to Hong Kong, so I shuffled my plans,” Newt said. “They’re a super cool team in L.A. though. Chris has a bunch of friends there, so they took me out a few times.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hermann said. “And how did the installation go?” 

“Without a hitch. They’d built in extra time for problem solving, but it was super smooth,” Newt explained before changing the subject. “By the way, sorry I missed your birthday, dude.” 

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” Hermann said with a wave of his hand. “I’m honestly content to let it slip by unacknowledged.” 

"I know, man,” Newt said, looking down at his hands. “But I, uh, got you a little present in Sydney. Nothing major. I’ll drop it by your room sometime.”

“You needn’t have bothered,” Hermann said, but noticing Newt’s shoulders sag slightly at his comment, he corrected, “but thank you, that was thoughtful of you.” 

Newton smiled, flushing subtly. “Nah.”

When they arrived at the hotel, Nolan and Natalie were seated comfortably in the lobby. Natalie jumped up when they walked in and skip-stepped to the entrance as Nolan followed close behind. 

“So what’s the name of the noodle place?” Newt asked. 

“Chau’s Hot Noods,” Natalie said. “It gets tons of amazing reviews.” 

“Oh sweet,” Newt said. “I’ve ordered take-out from there and they sent noods, which is always appreciated, but I’ve been wanting to dine in. You know, for the in-person experience.” 

“Well, yeah,” Natalie giggled. “It’s all about the live noods.”

Hermann gave Nolan a beleaguered sigh. “I think it’s going to be a long night.” 

Nolan laughed happily and gave Hermann an affectionate punch on the arm. 

They walked the short distance to the restaurant. Luckily Natalie had the foresight to reserve online; it was as popular as she’d suspected. The place had looked small from the outside, but the narrow corridor opened into a spacious dining hall with a tree in the middle covered in an array of multi-colored lanterns. They took a seat and were given menus and tea within moments and Nolan ordered a pitcher of beer for the table. The waiter stood at a polite distance as they perused the menus and was immediately back tableside once they’d decided. Once the beer arrived, Nolan portioned it out and toasted to the start of their night before turning his attention to Newt.

“So, holy shit. You’re the Black Velvet Rabbit’s keyboardist. And also Hermann’s pen pal. And co-worker. This is all kinds of insane,” he laughed, before puffing up his chest in comically exaggerated pride, “I got Hermann into BVR, by the way." 

“Oh yeah?” Newt eyebrows shot up and he glanced quickly at Hermann who made a point not to glance back.

“Yup, I saw you guys the first time you played Berlin. I bought a bunch of merch and lent Hermann your CD. I used to hear him listening to piano music sometimes in his room, so I figured he’d like your keyboard parts. That was probably the first thing we had in common.” 

“How’d you learn to play?” Natalie asked Newt, as the waiter returned with their orders. 

“Well, my dad’s a piano tuner and my mother’s an opera singer,” he explained, removing his chopsticks from their paper sheath and cracking them in half. “Dad taught me piano when I was little to make sure I learned theory, how to read music, that kind of thing, then put me in proper lessons when I got older. Keyboard’s a good base for all that.”

“So how did the band get together?” Nolan continued the rapid-fire line of questioning. 

“When I moved to Boston, I saw an ad they’d put out,” Newton said, chopstick-load of noodles paused above his bowl. “I didn’t know anyone in town and I'd always wanted to be in a band, so I went for it, met up with the gang, and we hit it off. I was just back there for two weeks before my work trip and spent practically every day with them.” 

“Yay, that’s so great,” Natalie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I always thought you all seemed like friends, but you never know, some bands are super good at hiding their issues. So, when did-” 

Hermann cut her off good-naturedly. “Poor Newton’s noodles are getting cold because the two of you are giving him the third degree.” 

Newton laughed at this but took Hermann’s interjection as an opportunity to shovel the waiting heap of noodles into his mouth. 

“It’s totally fine, man,” he said amiably after a swig of beer. “I mean, we weren’t that well-known, so it’s cool to meet people who appreciated it for what it was.” 

“Wow, that sounds so final,” Nolan said, dismayed. “You’re not gonna tour anymore?” 

Newton looked out the window. The neon lights from the outside reflected in his glasses and obscured his eyes, rendering his expression unreadable but Hermann recognized it for what it was; he had seen it every time Newton spoke about his band.

“I mean,” Newt swallowed, “first things first, gotta save the world, right?” His momentary wistfulness was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but he changed the subject. “So, what do you guys do?” 

“I’m a sound editor for movies,” Nolan said. “I did my degree in media studies and then did a technical diploma for sound engineering.” 

“Are you serious?! That’s such a cool job!” Newton enthused genuinely. "What kinds of movies?” 

“Mostly independent but I’m trying to get my name out there for big-budget stuff too,” he said. 

“And how about you, Nat?” Newt asked. 

“I’m a translator and social media coordinator,” Natalie answered proudly. “I mostly work freelance so I get to set my own schedule which I _love."_

“Hermann, how come your friends are _so much cooler_ than you?” Newt said, wrapping his arm amicably around Hermann’s shoulders and giving him a little shake. 

“Charming, Newton,” Hermann said, rolling his eyes and trying not to blush at the unexpected contact. “Thank you for that.” 

“I’ve been asking him the same question for _years_ , bro, I’m not even kidding,” Nolan grinned, sending both himself and Newt into a fit of laughter.

“Oh good, laugh it up at my expense, it’s fine,” Hermann said caustically, hoping any visible flush would be attributed to his displeased outpouring as Newton retracted his arm. 

Newt turned his attention back to Natalie. “That’s seriously wicked though. I bet there’s a lot of demand for that kind of thing.”

“Oh yeah, tons,” Natalie affirmed. “Most people don’t have a clue about it, but I don’t have to tell you that. Clearly someone in BVR is a social media expert.” 

“Mmmph?” Newton mumbled around a mouth full of noodles. 

“The hype you created with your pseudonyms,” she elaborated. “I mean, there are forums online dedicated to trying to figure out your identities. Those are some solid marketing tactics.” 

“Huh,” Newt mused. “I never thought of it that way before. Honestly? I was the one who pushed for it because I didn’t want people in the scientific community figuring out I was in a band. That would have been the nail in the coffin of my credibility. I had enough trouble getting people to take me seriously because of my age.”

“Well, it was accidental genius then,” Natalie said, thinking this over. “People are still speculating about it. But I mean, if you ever _did_ need a social media guru, I’d give you the friend discount.” 

“Oh hey, thanks,” Newt said before doubling back. “I had no idea about the forums though. What other kinds of stuff do people say?”

Natalie pulled out her phone, found the site and passed it to him. He scrolled through the topics with interest, suddenly bursting out laughing. “No... no, no...” he made a face. “They’re twin brother and sister! People think they’re _dating?!_ I can’t wait to see their expressions when I tell them!” He kept scrolling and started laughing again. “Holy shit, people are perceptive, huh?” 

“About what?” Natalie said, not remotely hiding her excitement at whatever insider information she was about to hear. 

“I thought I was being clever about the whole ‘Doc’ thing, but people guessed it’s because I have a doctorate. I mean, they have no clue my field, but still...” Newton maintained an amused grin as he kept scrolling.

“You have _six_ doctorates, Newton,” Hermann corrected him, feeling an odd pride in doing so. Newton so rarely spoke of his academic accolades that he occasionally felt the need to encourage his lab mate to show off his credentials when he inevitably downplayed them. 

“Six?!” Nolan said in disbelief. “I didn’t think that was even possible!” 

“Neither did I,” Newt chuckled lightly. 

“It probably shouldn’t be,” Hermann said with a grin and an eye roll directed at Newt. “There’s nothing wrong with _committing_ to a single discipline, you know.”

“Ouch, wow, fear of commitment, huh? That’s your unqualified diagnosis?” Newt cocked a playful eyebrow at the derision until becoming distracted again by the phone. “Oh hey! There’s a discussion thread about my tattoos.”

“Oh yeah, I noticed at the last concert you played in Berlin that you had a forearm tattoo but it was mostly covered,” Natalie said.

“Yup, the gang made me buy that bracer,” Newt said, his lips quirking upwards unevenly. “After _the incident...”_

The table collectively exchanged a look. After a beat, Newt noticed and added, “Sorry, that was a really ominous way to trail off, huh? Yeah, Mac had to... uh... crap. So, you don’t know that’s the bassist’s name, okay?”

Nolan and Natalie both became visibly excited at the revelation, but promised their lips were sealed. 

“Anyway, Mac had to defend my honor once. Right after I got Yamarashi here inked,” he pointed to his forearm, “we were all out drinking and some guy tried to pick a fight with me about it. He was getting super aggressive and I was trying to de-escalate and then he shoved me _really_ hard and Mac caught me before I face-planted, chugged his entire beer in one go, turned around and clocked the dude in the face, in like, one smooth, uninterrupted motion. I had cartoon-style heart eyes for days.” Newt chuckled a little at the memory, shaking his head and passing Natalie back her phone, who was gawking with delight at the story. 

“Good times,” he sighed as the waiter dropped the bill off at the table. 

As they were settling up, Nat asked, “So, what do you guys wanna do now?” 

“Newton knows the area far better than I do,” Hermann answered, turning to his colleague. “Do you have any ideas?” 

“Yeah, so there are lots of bars around, a few night clubs and a couple karaoke joints,” Newt answered as they walked out of the restaurant and into the bustling street. Natalie made a very excited face and looked at Nolan mouthing ‘karaoke yay.’ 

“Uh oh,” he laughed. “You just said the magic word.” 

“Nice! Room or bar?” Newt asked, putting his hands casually into his jacket pockets. 

“Room, right?” Nolan looked at Natalie to confirm. 

“Yes, yes, yes!!! All the yes!!! More airtime for us,” she enthused, effectively sealing the deal for the rest of the evening with her happy outpouring.

“Alright, let’s get our sing on!” Newt said and led them through the labyrinthine neon streets. He seemed to have a good handle on where he was going, only pausing to check his phone once to make sure they were heading the right way. 

As the city passed by around them, Hermann found himself entranced by the lights and sounds. There was a beautiful chaos to Hong Kong that was more pronounced at night, splendid in shifting hues. As Newton led them down various streets, he noticed a number of the bars had subtle rainbow flags or stickers displayed.

They arrived at a brightly lit karaoke box complex and booked a room for an initial two hours with the option to extend. Newton got them some menus and they placed a drink order which was promptly brought to their room as they perused the song book.

Nolan kicked off the night with an enthusiastic but tone-deaf rendition of a ‘Queen’ song. Newt and Natalie clapped and cheered as Nolan belted it out, his voice cracking comically on the higher notes. He finished the song laughing as he offered the mic up to the next brave soul. 

Natalie grabbed it and programmed in a ‘Joan Jett & the Blackhearts’ song. She had an excellent voice in stark contrast to Nolan’s raucously dissonant performance.

When she finished, she said into the mic, “You’re up, Newt.”

Newt put in a ‘Depeche Mode’ song to the overt delight of Nolan and Nat. 

They established an unspoken singing roster and for a while, no one noticed that Hermann hadn’t yet participated. After an additional cycle, Newt clued in that Hermann had been skipped over and passed him the book.

He shook his head. “Oh, I am perfectly content to drink beer and watch the rest of you make fools of yourselves, thank you very much,” he said, taking a large swig of his drink for emphasis. They had polished off a couple pitchers at Chau’s and he realized suddenly that the colors of the room lights were swirling ever so slightly. Pacing was probably advisable. 

“Hermaaaaann,” Natalie sidled up to him on the plush bench. “You _have_ to sing something.” 

“I assure you nobody wants that,” he protested dryly. 

“I mean, your voice can’t possibly be as bad as Nolan’s,” Nat smirked, “so you’re golden!” 

“Hey!” Nolan fake frowned and nudged her playfully as she guffawed at him. 

Hermann noticed Newton looking at him from across the room, the ever-changing lights from the tacky strobe disco ball illuminating his face and tattoos in a shifting array of colors. He had a little half smile playing on his features. He wasn’t badgering or pressuring Hermann in any way, just watching the scene unfold in rare and uncharacteristic silence. 

“Put something in, man,” Nolan said, taking a huge swig of beer. “We’re all friends here.” 

Deeming he’d had the exact amount to drink that he cared slightly less about making a fool of himself, Hermann huffed and rolled his eyes in resolute mock-exasperation. 

“Pass me the book then.” 

“YESSSSS!!” Natalie pumped her fist. 

He took a look through the English section, uncertain of what to choose until his eyes fell on a song that he had heard many times on Newton’s playlist. His colleague always danced around the lab happily whenever this particular song came on, sometimes trying to make the others dance with him. Hermann felt confident he knew the lyrics and hoped he wasn’t going to bastardize it too badly. 

All anticipatory eyes were on him as he punched the number into the karaoke remote. He took up the mic and cleared his throat as the song began. 

The first upbeat and iconic chords of ‘Friday I’m In Love’ by The Cure filled the room. His eyes flicked to Newton who was staring at him in ecstatic disbelief. 

“I could use your harmonization skills, I believe,” Hermann smiled and passed him the second microphone as the end of the intro counted down. Newton blinked and quickly grabbed it with a wide grin. 

Hermann knew he was not the greatest singer, but the melody was in his range and his British diction added a level of authenticity. Newton bounced back and forth in his seat to the beat and during the chorus, he added the requested vocal harmony as Nolan and Natalie clapped along. 

Newt suddenly stood up and sprang across the room to pull Hermann up onto his feet to dance with him, passing him his cane as he did so. Natalie whooped and grabbed the karaoke room tambourine and suddenly everyone was on their feet dancing. 

Hermann’s eyes flicked between the lyrics scrolling across the screen and Newton, who was beaming at him the whole time, dancing along to the beat with complete abandon. By the second chorus he worked up the nerve to hold Newton’s gaze when he sang, _“Thursday, never looking back, it’s Friday, I’m in love_ ,” as Newton took the higher range harmony effortlessly. 

As the song ended, everyone clapped and Nolan patted Hermann on the back, laughing, “Man, the way you were hesitating to sing anything, I thought you were gonna suck! Like, I was expecting four minutes of pure pain.” 

“Me too,” Newt grinned, sitting back down, slightly breathless. “I thought you were gonna crash and burn, dude. Like, really bomb the hell out of it. But you killed it!” 

“Oh, thank you both for the vote of confidence,” Hermann laughed a little too loudly as he took his seat again, steadying himself with his hand against the wall as he slumped back onto the plush bench. His hand slipped slightly right before his posterior met the seat and he fell the remainder of the imperceptible distance. 

At some point he’d crossed the threshold from tipsy to properly inebriated.

The colors and lights spun if he moved his head too quickly and he kept catching himself continually zoning out and staring at Newton’s lips across the table as he sang ‘The Passenger’ by Iggy Pop. He felt continually drawn to sit closer to Newton, but knew it was probably best to maintain a certain physical distance, lest he embarrass himself.

They ended up extending for an additional two hours. Hermann attempted a few more songs with Newton, who seemed determined to search out options that they both knew. After a decent duet rendition of a Tears For Fears song, followed by a Clash song, Newton ceded the mic to Nolan, who was inebriated enough to try a few rap songs, most of which he cut off before the end, laughing hysterically at his inability to keep pace. Natalie put in what Hermann assumed were anime themes, one of which Newton sang right along with her as they belted out the lyrics together in what seemed to be mostly passable Japanese.

Nearing their end of their time, Natalie was beginning to nod off on Nolan’s shoulder and he put his arm around her affectionately. He slid the song book to the center of the table. 

“Any final whims?” he asked.

“Yes!” Newton grabbed the book and flipped quickly to what would be the last song of the night. 

“All right, Hermann,” he grinned, passing the mic to his colleague before inputting the code. “I want you to sing this with me, and don’t pretend you don’t know it because I’ve played it in the lab around five hundred times by now.” 

‘God Save the Queen’ by the Sex Pistols scrolled across the screen. 

Hermann shook his head, “Oh, no, no, no, absolutely not.” 

“Nuh-uh, you have to. You have to, dude, I need you. Show me your secret punk side,” Newt rambled, words slurring as he stood up. In a final burst of energy he didn’t really have, Hermann grabbed his cane and joined him, facing his lab mate on his feet.

The lyrics started and Newton roared them in a terrible approximation of a British accent, doubling over to yell-sing into the mic. Hermann could not even begin to match his volume, but Newton’s energy was infectious and shortly after he was yell-singing right along with him, trying not to laugh his way through the entire song. 

They finished their performance, Hermann laughing breathlessly and Newton cackling loudly, just as Natalie woke up from her catnap asking, “What’d I miss?” 

*** 

They crowded into a taxi which dropped Natalie and Nolan back to their hotel before continuing on to the Shatterdome. As Newt exited the cab, he tripped over himself and Hermann extended his arm to catch the smaller man and spare him from a painful sprawl onto the unforgiving concrete. 

“W-what the hell, Hermann?” Newt stammered, chuckling. “I should _not_ have tried to keep pace with you. I totally assumed you were a lightweight. But you’re a friggin’ _beast_.”

“I should think as a biologist you would comprehend the relationship of body mass to alcohol tolerance,” Hermann said, words running together more than he cared to admit. 

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?” Newt retorted, sniffing defiantly and stumbling drunkenly. 

“Recall, Newton, I have a good few centimeters… er, inches on you,” Hermann stated with a haughty matter-of-fact tone.

“Pfft. In height maybe,” Newt slurred. “Trust me, dude, I’ve got inches to _spare.”_

“Of _course,_ in height, you degenerate,” Hermann said louder than he meant to, hoping his furiously blooming blush was hidden by the scant light of the late hour.

Newton just chuckled, tightening his grip on Hermann’s arm to stay vertical. As soon as they entered the Shatterdome, Newt began a solitary performance of their duet, singing at the top of his lungs, “IT’S FRIDAY,” to Hermann’s horror as he shushed his colleague with fierce vehemence. Newt finished the stanza in a sung whisper, not taking his eyes off Hermann, “I’m in looooove,” before breaking into a fit of giggles and clutching Hermann’s arm tightly.

When eventually they arrived in front of Newt’s door, he made no effort to ascend the stairs to his room. There was a beat of silence before he spoke. 

“Um, so your friends are super awesome,” he said with a very inebriated, very lop-sided grin. He tried to shift and stumbled slightly, his back impacting with the metallic wall behind him with a reverberating clang. 

Hermann surged forward to catch him and make sure he didn’t slide onto the floor. Newt regained his balance and put a steadying hand on the wall behind him.

“Whoops,” he said at full volume before catching himself and repeating “whoops” in a stage whisper. 

Hermann realized he was still holding Newton’s arm and standing closer than he meant to be. The shorter man was completely disheveled and his cheeks were flushed a bright pink. His thick eyelashes were half lidding his eyes as he blinked slowly up at Hermann over the rims of his glasses, which had slid mostly down his nose. He swallowed and licked his lips. 

Hermann caught himself unconsciously trying to memorize the pattern of Newt’s freckles. He'd had far more to drink than he’d intended. Realizing he had tightened his grip again on Newt’s arm, he quickly let it go and put his hand on his cane for balance. 

“You should get some rest, Newton,” he said, taking care to have clear diction. 

“I wish you’d call me Newt,” his colleague said wistfully, looking down and nodding too many times, seemingly fixated by his own shoes. He shifted slightly before adding, “I had fun tonight.” 

“As did I.” 

Neither spoke nor moved for a few moments. 

“I hope your friends had fun too.” 

“I can assure you that they did." 

Newt was not making any effort to leave. Hermann felt a twinge of regret that he had to be the one to take the initiative.

“Good night, Newt,” he said quietly. 

“Hey, you called me _Newt,_ ” the shorter man beamed up at him.

“Are you okay to sort yourself out?” Hermann inquired carefully. 

“Mmm yeah,” Newt took off his glasses momentarily and tried to clean the lenses on his shirt, before turning and ambling up the stairs.

“G’night, Herms,” he stood hesitantly at the threshold before very slowly closing the door. 

Hermann was suddenly alone in the hallway.

 _‘Herms?’_

He smiled to himself. It was by far the most ridiculous way to modify his name he’d ever heard. But tonight, he would allow it. 

He trudged back to his room on unsteady feet and collapsed in a contentedly exhausted heap on his bed. It had been a marvelous night. The liquor had given him a warm, languid feeling and he lay in his bed and replayed the memory of Newton singing, hair dishevelled, waistcoat accentuating his figure, well-toned, tattooed arms clutching the microphone. He thought of how Newton had stood in the corridor, looking up at him with his back against the wall, too drunk and breathing heavily. 

A thought occurred to him. What if he’d kissed Newton in the hallway? He could have closed the distance and pressed his body against the other man, pinning him in place, ravishing his mouth, raking fingers through unruly hair. Was it absurd to think that Newton might have kissed him back? They were both too drunk and it would have been entirely immoral to act on any urge he felt. But here alone, in the solitary safety of his room, Hermann moaned imperceptibly at the thought. 

He had not allowed himself this carnal frivolity in so long. But his hand, unbidden, brushed his stomach and the light hair there as it travelled slowly and tortuously downwards. A warm, aching throb spread its way through his body.

He gripped himself, biting his lip roughly and began moving his hand with long, languorous strokes. The fantasy played out in his mind, spurred on by the adrenaline of the evening and the slight fuzzy edge on his surroundings as the unreality of the liquor combined with the late hour melded together in a haze.

He envisaged being locked in a desperate, messy kiss with Newton as he slowly ascended the stairs up to his quarters backwards, bringing Hermann with him, their bodies pressed together as he dragged Hermann inside. 

Suddenly, they were back in the coffee shop in Berlin. Hermann froze momentarily. He had never allowed himself to fully play out this fantasy. So many other imaginings, but never this one. 

But tonight, he couldn’t care less for his guilt or any sense of propriety. He cautiously allowed himself to recreate the scene again, the smell of roasted coffee beans, the dollop of whipped cream on Newt’s nose, and the way he would have tasted of espresso and chocolate if Hermann had kissed him. He visualised leaning across the table and connecting Newt’s lips with his own.

He imagined Newton’s surprised grin before he chugged his beverage in one go and got to his feet, hand outstretched to Hermann, who took it and interlaced their fingers as they rushed out of the coffee shop and stepped out into the windy street together. 

Hermann would tell Newt he’d been in lust with Doc and in love with Newton for years. Newton would squeeze his hand and smile up at him and tell him he’d wanted Hermann since their first letter and then they were suddenly back at Newton’s hotel, already in the room, already unclothed, already gasping and grinding against each other, rolling their hips in an addictive friction. Newton would drag his fingernails down Hermann’s back as their pace quickened. Newton would whisper his name in a wrecked, ragged voice, undulating desperately beneath Hermann until... 

“Newton,” he rasped out breathlessly as his vision went white and his mind went perfectly, utterly, consummately blank.

*** 

The following day, Hermann met up with Nolan and Natalie at their hotel. It was an understatement to say that he was feeling rough around the edges, but he forced himself to endure the self-inflicted punishment of his savage hangover. They found a restaurant with the facade of a classic American Diner while they were walking downtown and decided to have a late lunch. 

After they took a seat at a comfortable looking plush red booth, Hermann took up his menu and flipped immediately to the breakfast section. He perused it thoughtfully, going through a mental checklist. _Eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, waffles, served daily from 7am to 11am. All the breakfast foods that Newton said he enjoys._

“Do they have your weirdo breakfast?” Nolan asked with a grin, noticing the section Hermann was studying intently. 

“Unfortunately not,” he replied without missing a beat. “Although, I’m sure they could probably spare a few tomato slices if I ordered some toast.” 

“Weirdo breakfast?” Natalie asked, quirking an eyebrow with interest. 

“When we were roommates, Hermann always had tomatoes on toast, and I thought it was the _weirdest_ thing ever,” Nolan explained with a good-natured chuckle. 

“And I thought your impossibly saccharin junk food cereals were the most _dreadful_ thing ever,” Hermann retorted before changing the subject. “So, I’m sure you were pleased to have spent an evening with _Doc_.” 

“Oh yeah, I mean, that was like some kind of VIP contest winning level shit,” Nolan said. “But more so than meeting ‘Doc’, we were happy to meet _Newt.”_

“Yeah,” Natalie followed Nolan’s train of thought. “It was fun to have a double date with you guys.” 

“Sorry, a double _what_?” Hermann sputtered.

“Oh, come on, bro! In what way was that _not_ a double date?” Nolan said. “You love his music. You loved his letters. And you hide it pretty good when you’re sober, but _man,_ when you had a few in you, you just stared at him drooling the whole night.”

"I was most certainly _not_ drooling,” Hermann retorted with no small degree of horror. 

“I’m just messing with you. Sort of. Kind of. Mostly,” Nolan joked before turning serious. “But Hermann, we’ve been friends a long time now. Maybe _he_ hasn’t clued in yet, but to anyone who knows you like I do, it’s super obvious how you feel about him.” 

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Nat asked with an innocent smile. 

“Because it’s not that simple,” Hermann stated. “For starters, we work together and live in extremely close proximity. If things go poorly, it would have repercussions on both our personal and professional lives.” 

“Granted, but why are you assuming it wouldn’t work out?” Nolan countered. 

“Look, when we first met... it didn’t go well,” Hermann sighed heavily. 

“How so?” 

Hermann took a long, deep breath in through his nose. What was the point of hiding it? The excuse that he was somehow protecting Newton’s double identity was well and truly spent. 

He recounted the story to them in full. After such a long time editing it and modifying it or avoiding it entirely, it felt cathartic to speak about it candidly and the weight of the private burden he’d felt for years slowly began to dissipate.

When he concluded the recounting, Natalie stood up wordlessly, came around to his side of the table and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a firm hug. He tensed for a moment in surprise before relaxing into the contact. 

“Hermann,” Nolan began, his face set in a serious look. “Can I say something?” 

“Of course,” he responded. 

“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never let fear stop you before. That’s why you’re here in Hong Kong at the end of the world, fighting on the front lines.” 

Hermann reflected on this. The world was incapacitated by its own terror; a deep-seated paralysis that prevented real action. People were afraid, but simultaneously unwilling to do a damn thing about it. It was true that he had never been like that. 

“Nolan’s right,” Nat smiled at him gently. “And for what it’s worth, I really think Newt likes you.” 

“Why would you say that?” 

"I don’t know, it’s just the way he looks at you and listens to you,” she explained. “Like, I can’t give a concrete example. He’s just sort of sweet and flirty with you.” 

“He’s like that with everyone,” Hermann protested.

Natalie shook her head, looking at him with large, earnest eyes. “Hermann... you know it’s okay to have hope, right?” 

Hermann was unsure how to respond.

*** 

He left his friends mid-afternoon and returned to the Shatterdome. It was the couple’s last night in Hong Kong and unbeknownst to Natalie, Nolan had selected tonight to propose. He’d promised to text Hermann as soon as he could to let him know the outcome. Hermann felt a twinge of sympathetic nervousness for him regardless of his confidence as to Natalie’s positive answer. 

He went to the mess hall for a late dinner and had just sat down at a table by himself when Newton wandered in. He waved and proceeded to get his food. Hermann was about halfway through his meal but deliberately slowed down to make sure he didn't finish before Newt joined him. 

Within a few minutes Newt was standing at the side of the table with his tray. Hermann immediately noticed his colleague was clad in a black band shirt with the logo for ‘The Cure’ in green letters. 

“Hey man, this seat taken?” 

“Be my guest,” Hermann said as Newt sat across from him. He flushed intensely from the memory of his previous night’s fantasy. Their slow plod back to Newton’s room was the longest time he’d been in such close proximity with his colleague, and he felt heat rise to his face at the way it had affected him.

“I’m kinda surprised to see you here. Aren’t Nolan and Nat still in town until tomorrow?” Newt asked casually. 

“Yes, but they are having a romantic dinner tonight,” Hermann explained. Given that Newton now knew his friends somewhat, he elaborated. “Actually, Nolan is going to ask Natalie to marry him.”

“NO WAY!!!” Newt said, voice loud enough to attract attention to their table. He winced slightly and lowered his volume before continuing. “No way! So, you’re waiting to hear how it goes?” 

Hermann nodded. 

“Oh man, I only met them yesterday but I just want those crazy kids to be happy, you know?” 

“They have that effect on you, I agree.”

Newt laughed and dug into the mediocre mess hall food, shaking his head and smiling back at Hermann. “Does she have any idea?”

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“Wow. Well, they seem like a good match, I’m sure she’ll say yes.” 

“I’m confident she will,” Hermann said, looking down at his plate before clearing his throat and adding quietly. “I like your shirt.” 

Newton looked down quickly, before smiling, “Oh, heh, yeah. In honor of our epic duet last night.” He ran a hand through his hair before shoving an unreasonable amount of pasta into his mouth. 

They ate for a few moments in silence before Hermann cleared his throat and said, “So, tell me more about your trip.” 

“Oh yeah!” Newt enthused, ostensibly happy for the change of subject. “The gang bought a bar together, so we mostly just hung out there and had a few jam sessions. We even wrote a new song. And I got my ink done,” he said with obvious pride. “It’s a chest piece I’d been planning for ages. I’d been going back and forth with my artist on the design so that pretty much the second I got off the plane, she could poke me repeatedly with a needle.” 

“That sounds rather intense,” Hermann gaped slightly at his colleague’s dedication. 

“Well, it was a big piece and I needed multiple visits. Luckily I can sit for a really long time. Also luckily, my artist is next to my favorite breakfast place. Because sometimes the universe just wants us to be happy.” 

“Well, I’m glad you were able to indulge your culinary fantasies,” Hermann said before wincing internally at his choice of phrasing.

“You know me, I’m a hedonist at heart,” Newt grinned, leaning his chin on his hand before continuing. “And I saw some folks from MIT too. But you know how it is. They always wanna talk shop.”

“Especially when they know you’re associated with the PPDC. Then it feels like a deposition,” Hermann added. 

“YES!! It’s the worst,” Newt half shouted. “It’s seriously my favorite part about hanging out with the gang. They’re like ‘how’s work, saved the world yet?’ and I’m like ‘getting there’ and they’re like ‘cool, man, want a beer?’ and that’s that and we talk about other stuff.” He chuckled slightly, “I mean, I’m oversimplifying, obviously. It’s just... I feel like to most people I’m Dr. Geiszler of the probably-too-many-doctorates. But to them I’ve always been Newt. Just Newt. It’s awesome.” 

“I understand that completely,” Hermann affirmed. “Honestly, I do. I think it's one of the reasons that I enjoy spending time with Nolan and Natalie.” 

In a moment of synchronicity, Hermann’s phone began buzzing on the table, startling them both. Newt shot him a panicked look as Hermann reached quickly for his phone and read the message, holding his breath. 

“She said yes,” he whispered, grinning widely. 

Newt jumped out of his seat, knocking over his glass, sending water splattering all over the table.

“OH MY GOD!! YES!! I’m so freaking happy right now!” Newt jumped up and dragged Hermann up onto his feet in one fluid motion, hugging him with alarming strength. “You’ve got a wedding in your future, Herms!” 

There was that name again. Hermann found he didn’t hate it. 

He glanced to the side as a passing LOCCENT officer giggled at them. “Aww, congratulations!” 

He thought to correct the mistake, but his colleague had crushed all the air out of his lungs. He decided to let it slide as Newton held him tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KARAOKE TIME!!! Or… a thinly veiled excuse for the boys to get drunk and sing at each other. I had way too much fun writing this chapter. There was no way I was going to let Hermann off the hook with his BVR fan friends not meeting Newt just when he thought things had fallen into place to be less complicated. And for Hermann it ended up being an opportunity to have someone who knows him well reflect back to him that maybe telling Newt how he feels is not so crazy after all... I promise, we’re getting there sooner rather than later ;) It was also good for Newt because he got to talk about the band and reminisce a bit without it making him sad, which was nice to write because so far he’s been conflicted about it. 
> 
> Here’s a link to the song that Newt and Hermann duet: 'Friday I’m In Love' by The Cure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGgMZpGYiy8
> 
> I thought a lot about what song made sense for them to sing together. Newt is canonically a Sex Pistols and Iggy Pop fan so we know he likes alternative music. It’s an upbeat, fun song and it’s not hard to imagine him dancing around the lab to it. It also seems like the kind of song that Hermann would like and may possibly have known even before Newt played it in the lab. And it’s a love song, but not a typical one, so Hermann probably feels like he’s not being super obvious singing this basically to Newt with Newt (it’s *definitely* obvious, Hermann).
> 
> Things got a little spicier in this chapter with Hermann finally allowing himself to run the mental exercise of ‘what if’ things had gone differently with Newt on their first meeting. There will be much more spiciness to come. I plan to make good on the ‘eventual smut’ tag.
> 
> I had a decision to make in this chapter about names of the members of the Black Velvet Rabbits. I totally modeled them off ‘the gang’ from Always Sunny, figuring I’d just never name them. But it felt really unnatural for Newt to call his friends anything but their names when he refers to them, so I’ll pepper their names in via Newt, but only when needed so it doesn’t feel like a cross-over.
> 
> Anyway!! As always, if you’re reading, then I can’t thank you enough and I genuinely hope you’re enjoying it~


	11. Diminuendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of further cuts around the PPDC network, Newt makes a significant discovery which leads him closer to the truth about the nature of the kaiju. Hermann makes a significant discovery of his own about Newt.

Newt strode into the lab on Monday morning with a tray of cups from his favorite coffee shop near the Shatterdome, calling out enthusiastically, “The K-Sci Five are back in business!” 

The other four scientists looked up as he walked in. 

“Little buddy!” Chris sprinted across the room and flung her arms around him, effortlessly lifting him up into the air. He only barely got the beverages down onto the nearest desk in time to avoid disaster. 

“Hey guys,” Newt chuckled as his feet dangled above the floor. “Did you miss me?” 

“Of course we did!” Kay came over to join them. 

Chris gave Newt one final squeeze before setting him back on solid ground and Kay reached in for a considerably less crushing hug. 

“How was your trip?” Alex called from across the lab, elbow deep in a sample. 

“It was awesome! Got new ink, hung out with the gang... I really needed it,” Newt said with a gratified sigh and began distributing the treats around the room. “And the Milking Machine installation went off without a hitch. I actually ended up getting back a bit early.” 

“And you didn’t text me to do brunch?!” Chris chided and gave her colleague a playful punch on the arm. 

When Newton came to Hermann’s workstation, he lowered his voice a little, passing him what Hermann assumed by the warm vanilla tones wafting up was a London Fog. “Hey man. So, did Nolan and Nat get to the airport alright after?”

“Yes, I saw them off yesterday,” Hermann responded. He took the lid off and bobbed the tea bag up and down in the cup. “They had a truly wonderful trip. Natalie was elated the entire time, she kept staring at her ring and hugging Nolan.” 

“God, they're so damn adorable,” Newt said, perching on the desk and taking a sip of what Hermann assumed was some kind of saccharin combination of chocolate and caffeine. 

“Indeed,” he agreed. “And they wanted me to say goodbye to you again. They insisted I reiterate that karaoke night was truly a highlight.” 

“That was so much fun,” Newt gave his lab mate a tilted half-smile, arms crossed comfortably in front of himself. “And you’ve been holding out on me. You’re a seriously good singer.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, but coming from you, that is a true compliment,” Hermann chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides.

Newt beamed back at him before looking down and scuffing his boot on the ground as he kicked his leg back and forth. He sipped his cup contentedly and made no move to return to his workstation until Alex called out to him.

“Newt, would you mind passing me the specimen labeled 2-G from the ice box?” 

“Yeah, man, sure,” Newton hopped off Hermann’s desk in a fluid motion, crossed the lab and vanished into the chilled sample area. 

Hermann smiled fondly at Newt’s retreating figure. It hadn’t been only Nolan and Natalie for whom karaoke night had been a highlight. Hermann kept recalling it over again in his mind. Aside from it being his only real night out on the town since his arrival, it had also been an incredible meeting of two worlds; his old life in Berlin and his new life in Hong Kong. Looking back now, it felt absurd that he’d hoped to keep them separate for the sake of simplicity. 

A little part of him he’d always admonished as silly had also gotten a thrill from singing with Newton. He wondered how his undergrad self would have reacted if he could have known that someday he’d perform an impromptu karaoke duet with the frontman of the Black Velvet Rabbits. 

At any rate, it was nice to have Newton back in the lab. It was notably less tranquil, but he brought an infectious high energy which rounded out the team dynamic. It was honestly hard to contemplate the K-Sci division any other way. 

The week passed productively to the ever-present tunes of the music roster and they finished at the usual time on Friday. K-Sci pizza night was unspoken at this point and Kay placed their usual order as they clued up for the day. Newt left the lab ten minutes early, but everyone else exited in unison, planning to meet up in the refectory in half an hour. 

When Hermann got back to his room, there was a small box with a card waiting on his doorstep. He frowned for a moment, reaching down to pick it up and recognized Newton’s handwriting at once. Years of letters had etched the man’s penmanship irrevocably into his mind. 

He unlocked his door and passed through the threshold. After leaning his cane against the wall, he took a seat at his desk and fumbled open the envelope. The tiny card had bubble-script on the cover spelling ‘HBD’ and the interiors of the letters boasted intricate patterns elaborated in pen. He flipped the card around to the back; no watermark or insignia, so almost certainly a Geiszler original. The inside read “Happy Birthday, Herms!” removing all doubt as to the package’s origin.

He opened the small box to reveal a pair of cufflinks bearing a subtle image of the Big Dipper. He pressed them in his hand, the cold metal warming instantly under the heat of his skin. 

He smiled widely as he recalled the reference to their impromptu rooftop picnic months prior. He would have to thank Newton for the thoughtful gift. _No,_ he amended at once, _you can do one better._

He set aside the sweater he’d been planning to wear and instead put on a button-up shirt. He fixed the cufflinks in place before fussing with his hair in the mirror, shoving his bangs back and forth before deciding it looked passable enough and exited his room. 

When he entered the mess hall, Alex, Chris and Kay had already started in on the beers, but the pizzas remained in their boxes to avoid losing heat. He took a seat at the table and Chris immediately commented on his new adornment. 

“Oh heeeeey!” she said happily. “Those look great! Newt overturned half of Sydney trying to find you a decent gift, poor guy. I have a pretty hilarious message chain of him freaking out and stress texting me about it.”

Hermann flushed slightly at the thought that it had been enough of an ordeal for Newton to inspire an anxious play-by-play. 

Newt came jogging in moments later and arrived at the table slightly breathless. “Sorry, sorry,” he panted lightly. “You didn’t have to wait for me.” 

“All good, all good,” Alex nodded evenly and passed him a beer, which he gladly grabbed, cracked open and took a long swig. He sat down across from Hermann and instantly noticed the gift. 

“Nice!” he said, reflexively reaching his hands across the table to lightly touch the cuffs of Hermann’s shirt. “You like ‘em?” 

“They’re wonderful, Newton, thank you.” 

“All good, man. I just happened to see them when I was out and about and figured they’d suit you,” Newt said, withdrawing his hands.

Hermann’s eyes flicked quickly to Chris who was staring at him with a huge grin. Before she could say anything to contradict Newt’s apparent understatement, Hermann cleared his throat, raised his beer can and announced, “Well, it’s good to have you back, Newton. To your successful work trip and much deserved time off!”

The cans met with a tinny knock and a collective “cheers” as everyone took a drink. 

Hermann noticed as they toasted that Newt also appeared to have procured a new accessory; he bore a platinum skull ring on the pinky finger of his left hand. Kay had spotted it as well. 

“Newt, your ring is really cool,” she said. “Is it new?” 

“Yup! When I was leaving Boston, the gang gave it to me,” he effused, spinning it around on his finger. “Sweet, right?” 

“Super sweet!” Chris affirmed. “So you had a good time then?” 

“It was seriously awesome,” he nodded contentedly as he grabbed a slice of pineapple pizza. “Did I mention they bought a bar?” 

“Uh, no, I think we would have remembered that,” Alex chuckled. 

Hermann was silently pleased that he already knew this particular detail before the rest of the team. 

“Right, well, the gang bought a bar,” Newt repeated. “So we hung out there a lot and even hauled our gear in for a few jam sessions. I can’t remember the last time I just got to chill like that. And the installation went really well. Super solid teams in L.A. and Sydney.” 

“I heard you had some fun nights out in WeHo with the L.A. crew...” Chris added with a little eyebrow wiggle. 

“Yeah, dude, your friends are wicked awesome _._ They took me to the Tar Pits, we went out dancing, we got absolutely shit-faced at the Rainbow Bar...” 

“Got your picture with the Motörhead statue?” Chris asked. 

“Obviously!” 

“Well, we’re happy to have you back,” Kay added. 

“Aww, you guys,” Newt grinned. “So, what’d I miss around here?” 

The team filled him in on the Shatterdome social happenings. They’d gotten a little cake for Hermann’s birthday, Tendo had started a monthly poker night which of course, the K-Sci Five were invited to and Alex’s daughters had sent him a care package which included a plethora of sketches which were now plastered all over his workspace. 

As the night wore on, as occasionally happened, the group split into separate, smaller conversations. Alex and Kay somehow found their way around to a discussion about the BuenaKai kaiju cultists which Hermann half followed with mild interest, but he found himself distracted by Chris and Newt’s side conversation. Chris had lowered her voice, but not so much that the more private exchange could not be overheard if one was close by and inclined to listen in. Hermann tried to focus on the main discourse, but found himself drawn into their banter.

“Owen keeps texting me about you, by the way....” Chris said with a conspiratorial smirk. “He keeps saying how he can’t _believe_ you’re single.” 

“Pfft,” Newton waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” 

“I think he, you know, _like-_ likes you,” she said, giving Newt a playful pinch.

“Well, feel free to not-so-subtly hint that it’s not gonna happen,” Newt said before taking a drink of his beer.

“Aww, I get it,” Chris said sympathetically. “Ethan was great and all, but give it some time and you’ll get back in the game.” 

“No, man,” Newt responded, idly spinning his skull ring around his pinky. “It’s not that... I had some time to think and figure some shit out...” he trailed off, eyes flicking around the group quickly.

“Okay, okay, I’ll quit bugging you about it. For _tonight_ anyway,” Chris chuckled, picking up on his reticence and they joined back up with the main conversation. Hermann made no outward indication that he had overheard anything, but privately wondered at Newton’s somewhat cryptic comments. 

Being the first K-Sci Friday in over a month with all five members assembled, they stayed in the mess hall late into the night and consumed a record number of beers. Eventually, Hermann tired of participating in the banter and simply sat back and watched his colleagues thoughtfully. It was good to have the group of them on the same continent again.

*** 

The Shatterdome had been even more frigid at night than usual as of late. Hermann had attempted to take a hot shower to warm himself, but the water remained resolutely lukewarm. He plugged in his heating blanket and put on a pair of flannel pajamas to try and reduce the chill which was starting to well and truly settle into his bones. He got under the covers with his book and reading glasses, shivering slightly.

This would not do. After several intolerable minutes, he got up to boil the kettle. He knew better than to dip into his caffeinated tea stash at this hour, but a cup of hot water would be an improvement on nothing. He thought vaguely of going to the refectory for an infusion when the idea struck him. He felt a guilty selfishness for his sudden excitement. There was of course no guarantee, but on the off chance it timed out...

He threw on his shoes and parka and took his mug with him as he followed the most direct route to the commissary, poured hot water over the chamomile bag he’d tossed into his cup and took the long way around back to his room.

The passage was familiar and yet it had been an age since he’d come this way at such a late hour. He deliberately slowed his pace as he approached Newton’s room, listening intently. 

It was faint, but it was there. It had been so, so long since he’d heard Newton play. He had once been accustomed to these late-night wanderings as a part of his routine and had taken to relying on them to combat his insomnia. Even after Newt and Ethan were no longer together, it had seemed somehow inappropriate to revive his pattern too soon afterwards. But now that a decent amount of time had passed, Hermann had no qualms about resuming his attendance. 

He took a seat on the long-abandoned step outside Newton’s room and felt the music wash over him. He let his head bump soundlessly against the door and closed his eyes to allow his other senses to heighten. He could hear Newt’s voice at lowered volume accompanying his piece. 

It was a song Hermann had never heard before. Usually Newton’s playing was fluid, however tonight, it was punctuated by abrupt periods of silence. On several occasions, he started the song over from the beginning. Every time it began to build, it never quite fell into place and became a series of false starts. 

Eventually he appeared to give up on it and switched over to play an assortment of classical pieces. Hermann sighed contentedly as the opening notes of Moonlight Sonata drifted out into the passageway. His hand wove through the air in time with the melody, as if he were conducting the performance. He sat, rapt by the private concert for an untold amount of time until he heard Newton shift within and switch off his keyboard. Hermann rose quietly and returned to his quarters, drifting off into the deepest sleep he’d had in ages. 

*** 

A few short months later, Kay came running into the lab in a panicked state. “I just heard terrible news from our colleagues in Lima and Panama,” she said, voice wavering. “The K-Sci teams in both locations have been let go.” 

“What?!” Chris spun around abruptly from her whiteboard where she had been working out some calculations. “I know they’re sunsetting the Jaeger Program, but I thought the UN still wanted Breach and kaiju research to continue.”

“That’s what I thought as well,” Kay said. “I don’t know how to explain this.” 

Her phone buzzed and she checked it immediately. “Not just K-Sci apparently. Further cuts to J-tech,” her phone vibrated again, the messages cascading in, “and there are even rumors that they might shut down the Shatterdomes in those locations completely!” 

Alex rubbed his temples in exasperation. “This is insanity. I’m going to get in touch with some of my colleagues in the region and see if they...”

A notification from his phone cut him off and he rushed to pick it up and check. “Oh no... it’s the same story in Tokyo.”

Chris pulled her phone out and rapidly texted. She heard back within a minute. “According to my buddy Owen... no cuts in L.A.” 

She cleared a stack of papers from her desk to perch on the side. “So, Tokyo, Lima, Panama... cuts... L.A.... safe. What the hell does all this mean for us?” she thought out loud. 

“We should avoid making any assumptions,” Hermann said, knowing full well his tone lacked conviction. “As tempted as I am to go digging around on the server again, why don’t we just call Ms. Delaine? Perhaps she can clarify.” 

Before noon, the HR Director strode into the lab to brief them. 

“First off, to put you all at ease, there will be no cuts to the Kaiju Science Divisions in Hong Kong, Los Angeles or Sydney,” she began, starting with the good news. “But the teams in Lima, Tokyo, Panama, Anchorage and Vladivostok are all being laid off and there will also be deep cuts to J-Tech and LOCCENT in each location.”

A stunned silence followed her statement. 

She sighed deeply and continued. “I’m sorry you had to learn about this through colleagues in the network. I only found out moments before you all did and I wanted to get my facts straight before speaking with you. Between us, I'm extremely unimpressed with the lack of transparency. Rest assured, I will be bringing this up with Senior Management. But I’ll do my best to answer your questions.” 

Kay spoke up first. “I thought that the United Nations deemed kaiju and Breach research essential?” 

“That hasn’t changed. The work will be redistributed around the PPDC network basically eliminating the Shatterdome ‘spoke’ models to create ‘hub’ teams.” 

“Does that mean we’ll be getting more staff?” Kay asked. 

“L.A. and Sydney will absorb a small number of officers, but the majority are being made redundant,” Ms. Delaine explained. “There are no plans currently to transfer any staff to Hong Kong.” 

“So they’re reallocating the work, but not giving us any additional resources?” Chris said, shaking her head before adding under her breath. “Fan-frigging-tastic.” 

“What does this mean for us long term?” Alex voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “Are they ultimately looking to make more cuts?” 

“The current plan is to retain the teams in Hong Kong, L.A. and Sydney,” Ms. Delaine reiterated. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Hong Kong was the first Shatterdome and while perhaps not the most modern, it is widely acknowledged as the best equipped. This is only my opinion, but I think we’d be the last to face cuts if it comes to that.”

The group agreed that it was highly unlikely Hong Kong would be on that list, given its strategic location and ample facilities. 

Everyone seemed mostly reassured but after Ms. Delaine left, Newt turned to the group and pointed out, “They planned for the Milking Machine replicas to be deployed to L.A. and Sydney ages ago. But nowhere else. I remember thinking at the time, why not just send one to _all_ the Shatterdomes? Guess now we know why...”

The observation implied that the budget cuts had likely been in the works far longer than anyone in the organization was letting on. It did not bode well and an air of disquiet descended upon the lab. 

As the weeks passed, Hermann noticed how tired everyone was starting to look and he himself had remarked the deepening of dark circles under his eyes as their collective workloads increased. 

The only advantage, if it could be called that in the wake of the jarring news, was that many of the kaiju samples stored in other Shatterdomes were redistributed and Hong Kong would be the recipient of a sizable number. With an incoming surplus of specimens, Newt and Alex drew up plans to operationalize several comparative organ studies once the shipment arrived.

*** 

Hermann decided to take advantage of the weekend quiet of the lab. There were some equations that needed refining and he had an inclination that today he may be able to make greater sense of them. After years in his field, he had come to know the type of focus that leant itself to progress and had learned never to squander the opportunity. And since the recent cuts to the network, he felt an increased pressure for some kind of breakthrough on predicting the timing of attacks.

He looked intently at his blackboard full of algorithms, eyes flicking rapidly across the scrawled numbers. He took in a deep breath and positioned himself in front of it, chalk at the ready in his hand. 

He summarized for the nth time the progression of kaiju appearances. K-day had been in 2013, then three attacks in 2014, one in 2015, two in 2016, one in 2017, one in 2019, the most recent attack in 2020 and then... nothing.

They were now well into 2023; an unprecedented span without a kaiju incursion and the longer the world went without an attack, the more it seemed willing to forget the recent past and ignore the possibility of further appearances. An increasingly vocal contingent was beginning to theorize that the kaiju threat was over and the creatures would not return despite a lack of evidence to support this claim. Some had even begun to question whether the Coastal Wall was necessary at this point. 

On the other hand, maybe all this was building to something far more devastating than anyone had predicted. 

Or perhaps it didn’t mean any of that. Conjecture was pointless. The truth was in the data, in the numbers; not in supposition. 

Hermann worked away for hours until the numerals began to blur together in his vision. He had put in a solid afternoon of silent focus and had made admirable progress. He felt satisfied to call it a day. 

Just as he was leaving the lab for the evening, the ceiling lights glinted off a laminated item on the floor to the left of the exit. He repositioned his cane and reached down to retrieve it. 

It was Newton’s lab access key card. It was not the end of the world to misplace one (it could be deactivated if lost) but it was a form to fill out and at least a day to have a new one configured in addition to the unimpressed looks and snide comments from the employees in Access Control. Plus, if Newton wished to return to the lab over the weekend, he would be unable. 

He glanced at his watch. Newton usually had a call with his bandmates in a couple of hours, so he would probably be in his quarters getting ready. He’d just pop around with the card and return it before Newt even noticed its absence. 

He strode down the hallway and approached Newton’s room, knocking lightly. He heard a voice from within call out, “Just a sec.” 

Moments later, his lab mate flung open the door. His eyes went wide with surprise. 

“H-Hermann...” he stuttered, seeming alarmed. Perhaps he’d caught his colleague in the middle of something? Newton appeared uncharacteristically jumpy. 

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” 

“N-no, I just wasn’t expecting...” Newt he looked down at himself and flushed a bright pink color and Hermann was seriously beginning to worry at the man’s obvious unease. He wondered for a moment if Newton had someone in his room with him and his eyes flicked behind his colleague’s shoulder. He felt a little twinge of relief to see that he was alone. 

Newt continued to look at him with a mortified expression before loudly blurting out, “I’m sorry, man, I was gonna wash it and bring it back! I just forgot... and then my room was freezing!”

Hermann frowned, trying to understand what the shorter man was on about when it dawned on him that the sweater Newton was wearing was very familiar. 

It took him a moment to recognize his own article of clothing. It was the green and grey argyle patterned black sweater he had lent Newton ages ago the day of his lab accident after his wash up in the decon shower. Hermann had pulled it off and given it to him automatically and had scarcely thought about it since, which was admittedly unusual for him as he typically kept better track of his own property than that. 

Hermann grasped at something to say to make the exchange less awkward. “It’s quite fine, Newton,” he responded. “I had honestly forgotten about it. There is no rush in returning it to me.” 

Newt shook his head and said in a small voice, “No dude, I’ll wash it tonight and drop it back...” 

Hermann wasn’t quite sure how to mitigate Newton’s clear embarrassment but he gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile and said, “It’s been particularly cold at night lately in the base. Why don’t you hang onto it until it warms up a little more?”

“I... uh...” Newt rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, only the tips of his fingers protruding from the oversized sleeves. “D-don’t let me forget, okay?” 

“I won’t.” 

“So, uh... did you need something?” 

_Right._ There had been a reason that he’d come to Newton’s room in the first place. 

“You left your key card in the lab. I noticed it when I was closing up.” 

“Oh yikes,” Newt said as he took the card from Hermann. “Wow, thanks for that. You saved me from those jerks in Access Control tearing me a new one,” he smirked. "Seriously, why are they so _mean?”_

Hermann chuckled, “I must admit, I’ve had the same thought on multiple occasions.” 

“Cool, well, thanks, dude.” 

“Not at all.” 

***

On a rainy morning several weeks later, the anticipated kaiju specimen redistribution shipment arrived. Newt and Alex wasted no time in getting to work on the new samples and ran a swath of tests, one of which revealed that Knifehead’s kidney appeared to be underdeveloped. Newt ran supplementary trials before preparing kidney samples from three additional kaiju which all resulted in an identical pattern.

“Huh...” he said pensively, poring over the data. 

“What have you got there?” Alex asked, taking a look over his shoulder. 

“Alex, I need you to play devil’s advocate for me,” Newt said, passing him a printout to review. “I want you to contradict me on everything I say.” 

“I’ve waited years for this day,” Alex joked, eyes skimming the paper. 

“Ooh, ooh! Can I play afterwards? This game sounds _fun!”_ Chris interjected across the lab. 

Newt rolled his eyes overtly at both of them. 

“Sorry, Newt, go ahead,” Alex amended with a chuckle. 

“Okay, here goes,” Newt began as he hopped up onto his desk, legs dangling above the floor. “So, organisms typically have two kidneys. But in all previous Bio-Harvests, they’ve never encountered a second kaiju kidney.” 

“Which doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, just that they haven’t found it,” Alex countered. 

“Right, not exactly conclusive, but they haven’t _ever_ found it. In any kaiju. Ever. And kidneys are typically located next to each other,” Newt responded. 

“But we’re talking about an alien being here. We can’t always extrapolate their physiology based on what we know about terrestrial biology,” Alex said. 

“Totally right, my man, but here’s the thing. I ran tests on the kidneys of four different kaiju and all of them appear to have renal dysplasia, characterised by diminished corticomedullary differentiation and usually a smaller sized organ,” Newt jumped down from his perch and began pacing back and forth across the lab. “So, what are the chances that in all four Bio-Harvests they just happened to only encounter the smaller, renally insufficient kidney but never the larger, higher functioning kidney which would be located close by?”

“Or maybe it isn’t. The secondary brain of a kaiju is consistently nowhere near its primary,” Alex pointed out. 

“But that’s because it serves a different function from the primary brain. Whereas both kidneys work in tandem,” Newt parried. 

“In which case, it doesn’t seem likely they’d be located at a distance, no,” Alex agreed. 

“You’re supposed to contradict me!” Newt put his hands on his hips. 

“Well, you’re making a lot of sense. Keep going,” Alex prompted. 

“Evidence points to the kaiju coming to earth as fully matured adults. But how are they even making it to maturity with only one malformed kidney?” Newt asked. 

“Well, we don’t have any data about the conditions in their original environment. Let’s assume it would allow an organism to survive with an underdeveloped renal system,” Alex said. 

“Okay, okay, granted. But then... we know that _earth’s_ conditions wouldn’t allow for that. From what I’m seeing from the tests I’m running, it doesn’t seem likely that a kaiju would realistically survive on earth for more than a few weeks. But we have no clue because the longest any kaiju has been here before we’ve taken it down was six days.” 

“Trespasser,” Alex confirmed. 

“Trespasser,” Newt repeated. “Obviously we can’t let them wreak havoc to wait and see what happens. But I’m starting to wonder how long they could even survive here if... you know... we didn’t blow them to chunks every time they showed up. In which case, why are they coming here, to an environment that they couldn’t ultimately survive in? Something doesn’t add up.” 

“I’m done contradicting you, by the way,” Alex said. “Because you’re absolutely right. There’s something we’re missing. Something significant.” 

“Yeah... I honestly don’t know what this implies, but it feels major.” 

“I agree,” Alex nodded before suggesting. “I think you should write a report. Let me know how I can help.”

“And once we’re done that, let’s see if we can make some progress on sequencing their DNA. I’m thinking maybe we could figure out the root genetic cause of their kidney issues,” Newt added.

“Damn, little buddy,” Chris whistled from across the room. “That’s good stuff. What led you to start looking into that?”

“I dunno, ever since I got back from my trip, things have been clicking a bit better.” 

“Newtito, you were probably exhausted. I think you really needed a break to get yourself back on track,” Kay said sympathetically. 

“Yeah... yeah I guess so,” Newt conceded. He sat down at his terminal and began to type furiously, occasionally calling in an assist from Alex with certain aspects of the report. By the end of the day, they seemed to have compiled something coherent. 

When everyone but Newt had left for the day, Hermann approached his colleague’s desk silently. He did not want to interrupt and waited patiently for Newt to look up. When finally he did, he jumped a little. 

“Oh, sorry, man,” he said. “I was in my own little world. What’s up?” 

“Newton,” Hermann said. “I have a theory, if you would indulge me.” 

“Yeah, anytime.” 

“Well, when I listen to piano music while I work, I find it improves my focus,” Hermann said. “You’ve expressed in the past that it’s the same for you.” 

“For sure, though not just limited to piano,” Newt agreed. “Music in general helps.” 

“Indeed. Music is inherent to you. You’ve been playing it since you were small and it’s always been a significant aspect of your life.” 

“Right.” 

“You said that when you were in Boston, you and your band wrote a song together,” Hermann ventured, leaning on Newt’s desk and propping his cane up next to him. 

“Yeah, so?”

“Music is something through which you channel your creativity,” he continued. “And I’m certainly no biologist, but your kidney theory seemed rather creative to me. I know that you have been at odds with your two passions for years,” he leaned forward and locked his gaze with his colleague. “But maybe you don’t need to be. Maybe... one helps you do the other.” 

Newt was silent and looked almost distressed. Hermann was momentarily taken aback; it was not the reaction he'd been expecting. 

“Can I be honest with you for a sec?” Newt asked, voice wavering slightly. 

“Of course,” Hermann answered.

“I actually play my keyboard to unwind sometimes at night,” Newt said. Hermann maintained a neutral expression that he hoped did not give away how well acquainted he was with this fact. “But you know what’s messed up? I haven’t been able to come up with anything new basically since moving to Hong Kong.”

Hermann nodded silently. 

“Back in Boston, I jammed with the gang and we wrote something pretty decent, so I figured I’d get back here and be able to keep the momentum going,” Newt said, voice cracking slightly. “But nothing seems to be working and sometimes I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to write music again on my own. And honestly, man? That idea scares the shit out of me.”

“Newton,” Hermann said hesitantly. “Forgive me for saying so, but I have always sensed you try to bury that aspect of yourself in favor of your work here. Perhaps a part of you is not letting yourself create music anymore because you’re afraid it will detract from your scientific endeavors.” 

Newt stared silently at the skull ring on his pinky finger, before absently beginning to rotate it in place.

“You are so frequently reticent to speak even casually about your music,” Hermann continued. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe that your scientific work and your music exist in isolation. They are both too integral to you to be separated.”

“Well, for the sake of... you know, my sanity,” Newt sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, "I hope you're right, man."

“I frequently am,” Hermann grinned sideways at his colleague, eliciting a small chuckle. 

Newt stood up, stretching for a moment before asking, “Maybe... uh, sometime you’d like to hear the new song we wrote?”

“I would very much enjoy that,” Hermann said smiling.

“Cool,” Newt nodded. “Me too.” 

*** 

Several months after the news about the first round of Kaiju Science cuts had been announced, Dr. Chen hurried into the lab with the closest thing to panic Hermann had ever seen on the man’s features.

“Alex?!” Kay said with a worried expression as he practically ran to his terminal. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“Check your emails,” he said in a tight voice.

Kay and Chris exchanged a worried glance and sat in front of their respective workstations. Hermann followed suit and logged into his as well. 

Nothing. 

“What’s happening, man? You’re freaking me out,” Chris asked. 

Alex rubbed at his temples. “I just heard most of Sydney K-Sci got let go.” 

“What?!” Chris yelled as her cell phone buzzed on her desk. She picked it up, eyes scanning the message. “Shit, shit, shit. The L.A. crew just messaged me. Same thing over there. Half the division just got canned...” 

The group sat dumbfounded trying to wrap their heads around this development.

Suddenly, a loud notification pinged, echoing out across the lab. It was Hermann’s terminal. Chris’ followed moments later. Then Kay and Alex’s about thirty seconds after that. 

Alex had clearly opened the email already and his eyes scanned the screen in rapid distress. “Damn...” his voice was hushed. 

Hermann pulled his email up, a feeling of dread coiling in his gut. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

From: Pan Pacific Defense Corps Human Resources <ppdc-hr@ppdc.hk.com>

Date: Friday, February 23, 2024 at 3:01 PM 

Subject: Kaiju Science Division To: <hermann.gottlieb@ppdc.hk.com>

Dear Dr. Gottlieb, 

It is our duty to inform you that the PPDC staffing section has been forced to make a number of difficult decisions and we regret to announce that we will be reducing the staff of the Kaiju Science Divisions in Hong Kong, Los Angeles and Sydney. 

We are pleased to inform you that you will be retained. 

For privacy reasons, we are unable to disclose the status of your colleagues. 

Best regards, 

Pan Pacific Defense Corps Human Resources 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Hermann took a deep breath. He glanced around the room to try and ascertain the nature of the correspondence each of his colleagues had received but everyone kept surprisingly guarded, perhaps prompted by the last line regarding personnel privacy. 

His eyes fell on Newton, who had his headphones on and was headbanging slightly, completely unaware of what was happening around him.

Chris called out to him, but he clearly didn’t hear her. She walked across the room and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Check your email,” she stated, expression serious.

Newton, completely oblivious to the mood in the room, continued to nod his head rhythmically and drum in the air as he made his way over to his desk. Hermann held his breath in the silent lab. 

Newt looked perplexed. “Uh, I don’t have an email.” 

Suddenly the ping rang out. He fixed his eyes on his screen, the monitor light casting a blue reflection onto the lenses of his glasses.

“Holy shit,” he said, as his jaw went slack. 

Without missing a beat, he turned to the group. “So, who wants to get drunk tonight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the inevitable PPDC K-Sci cuts have finally happened and the sun is setting on the K-Sci Five (after they have an epic send-off next chapter, of course).
> 
> This chapter is a little bit more vignette style than most of the others which more or less focus on a single event within the context of time passing. But there was a fair amount of ground to cover to keep the story moving along, and ultimately we are creeping closer and closer to canon. But, as always, with a few little moments between Newt and Hermann like the sweater from waaaaay back in chapter six which Newt has clearly purloined. Hermann, my dear, you are never getting that jumper back ;)
> 
> The dissolution of the team will be a huge turning point in Hermann and Newt’s relationship as they will have to reinvent their professional and personal dynamic while dealing with an increased workload in no less apocalyptic circumstances.
> 
> And then there were two…


	12. Sforzando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon hearing the news of further cuts, the K-Sci team makes an ill-advised trip to a Bone Slums dive bar. Following their colleagues’ departure, Newt and Hermann must navigate the personal and professional reality of being the only two scientists left in the division and Hermann finally writes Newt a long overdue letter.

Four out of the five members of the Hong Kong Shatterdome Kaiju Science Division were well on their way to being utterly and totally obliterated. Hermann had intended to imbibe as well, but the bar they’d wound up at was just on the wrong side of seedy, and he had heard more than enough stories about the city underbelly to know that at least one of them in the group should keep their wits about them and stay mostly sober. 

They were on the threshold of the Bone Slums and he had a strong suspicion the establishment was deep in the territory of Hong Kong’s main kaiju black marketeer. While he disliked constantly being pegged as the sensible, responsible one, he had yet to fully gauge who within the group was being retained and who was being let go. It would doubtlessly all come out during the course of the evening.

“So, Newt,” Chris began, downing a shooter in one go and slamming the glass receptacle onto the sticky table. “How come when _I_ sleep with a guy, he never calls me back. But when _you_ sleep with a guy, he like, falls in love with you?” 

“Dude, what?” Newt shot her a confused look before drinking the sludgy liquid in the shot glass he was holding. 

“Ethan bought you novelty _cereal._ Vintage stuff like that is not cheap in war times. And Owen is _still_ texting me about you even though I told him you’re off limits,” she said, swirling another shot around in her hand. 

“Okay, I didn’t sleep with Owen, to be clear...” Newt quickly corrected her. 

“What, single scientists with cheekbones that could cut glass not your type?” Chris countered, giving Newt a firm elbow in the ribs before loudly proclaiming, “Who am I kidding? I just want to live vicariously through all your nerd boy sex romps.” 

“To be fair,” Newt chuckled. “That sounds more like _your_ problem than mine.” 

“Aww, little buddy,” Chris lamented dramatically, wrapping her arms around her lab mate. “Remember when you used to tell me about all your Grindr dates?! In like, vivid, explicit detail? I miss that!” 

_Dear lord,_ Hermann thought, resigning himself to that fact that it was quickly degrading into one of _those_ nights. Chris’ volume made it nearly impossible not to be painfully aware of their conversation. He was already starting to regret coming along. 

“Lately it’s like you’ve taken a vow of celibacy or something,” Chris said, words beginning to slur together more with every passing minute. “You’re just as bad as Hermann now!” 

“I don’t understand your meaning, Dr. Lamont,” Hermann sputtered, unsure why he was being dragged into this. 

“Aw, come on,” Chris scoffed. “I mean, when was the last time you actually _got laid_ , Gottlieb?” 

Hermann’s temper flared at the teasing defamation. He knew Chris could tend towards infuriating belligerence when she was in her cups, but he found himself blurting out a retort before he could stop himself. “I’ll have you know, I was in a committed common-law relationship for years right up until I decided to take this job." 

Possibly sensing the magnitude of her transgression, Chris was instantly apologetic. “Shit, sorry. God, I’m being a drunk asshole. Today’s just been so fucked up. I’m really sorry, man.” 

Hermann watched as shock overtook Newt’s expression. He’d never told Newt about Lukas. Not on the day they met and not once in their correspondence. A small, ridiculous part of him had wanted to throw his relationship away for a chance to be with his colleague, a man that he only knew from fantasies and letters. He had never in his life been that impulsive but regardless, he’d kept that personal aspect a deliberate and guarded secret from Newton until it felt like it would be more problematic to correct it than to just continue to neglect mentioning it. 

He had always known it was poor judgement to omit this information and seeing Newt’s expression of hurt disbelief more than made that perfectly clear. 

Newt abruptly stood up. “I need another drink,” he announced as he turned and set off in the direction of the bar. 

Kay had not been privy to their exchange but noticed their lab mate’s rapid departure. “Is Newt okay? He looked really off...” 

“Well, it’s been a pretty off day for all of us,” Alex interjected and downed a shot. “Moment of truth, everyone. What did your email say? Mine told me I was being laid off due to budget cuts and thank you for your service and fuck you very much.”

Hermann blinked in surprise. He was fairly certain it was the first time he’d ever heard Alex swear. Not that he blamed the man. It was absurd, really. Here they were at the height of the crisis, the apocalypse bearing down upon them and the PPDC’s best and brightest were being unceremoniously tossed aside because the governments of the world couldn’t get their heads out of their collective asses. 

“I added that last part obviously,” Alex sighed. “But they may as well have said it for all the difference it makes.” 

“Me too,” Kay said and leaned into Alex, putting her head on his shoulder. “I guess now I know how all your kaiju entrails feel.”

Chris chuckled at that and raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that. I’m out on my gorgeous butt too.” 

Hermann couldn’t believe all three of them were being let go. He didn’t know what to say. 

“What about you, Hermann?” Alex spoke up and all eyes were on him. 

Hermann took a deep breath. “I’m... apparently being retained... for now.” 

Alex nodded slowly, while Chris put her head in her hands. Kay gave him a little smile. “Well, if they’re keeping _you_ on the payroll, maybe they haven’t completely lost their minds.” 

She sighed and then asked, “How about Newt, what’s his status?” 

Hermann glanced back to the bar. Newt was no longer there. He’d intended to keep an eye on him, but the conversation following his departure had required Hermann’s full attention. 

Chris pulled out her phone to dial him but it went straight to voicemail. The tension rose up a collective notch; they probably shouldn’t have come to a neighborhood like this. 

Alex jumped up announcing he’d check the washroom and Chris and Kay spread out to check the dance floor and bar area.

Hermann hesitated for a moment and then followed a hunch to the balcony at the back. He opened the door out onto the veranda. The neon-bathed sight of the massive kaiju remains lay not far beyond, eerie in the night rain. 

To his right stood a very tall, older man with short, light hair leaning towards a smaller man in a leather jacket.

 _Wait..._

“Newton!” Hermann stuttered. 

Newt glanced back at him. The larger man smirked at Hermann before turning to Newt. “Heh,” he chuckled, deep voice rumbling. “Friend of yours?” 

Newt looked away. “No. He’s just a coworker. _”_

Hermann refused to let his expression show just how deep the comment had cut. 

_“Newton_ ," he hissed and then said to the larger man, “Could you give us a moment?” 

The man pulled a pair of dark glasses from his suit pocket, shoved them onto his face despite the late hour, shrugged and made to go back inside, speaking to Newt as he left. “You know where to find me, kid, if you change your mind.”

“Newton,” Hermann began. “What are you doing out here?”

“What do you care?” Newt said, gazing out at the street below with a cold expression. He took his rain-steamed glasses off his face to wipe them. The shifting neon of the city beyond cast an alternating pattern of hues across his face and dampening leather jacket. He refused to meet Hermann’s eyes. 

“You can’t just vanish in a place like this, everyone is looking for you. And you just missed the entire conversation where we all revealed our-” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Newt cut him off, spinning around to face him. “Back in Berlin when I gave you my number and invited you back to my hotel room... if you were with someone back then, why didn’t you just say?!” 

“Newton, listen-” 

“No, _you_ listen!” Newt yelled, closing the distance between them and jabbing a finger at Hermann. “We could have laughed off the mix-up and I wouldn’t have had to think the person I respected more than anyone else in the world hated me for _three fucking years!_ ” 

Newt stood staring at him, his breath coming in heaving gasps as his anger transitioned to grieved confusion. “What the hell, Hermann? All this time, I never understood why you left like that...” 

“No, that... that was not the reason I left, it was that I just couldn’t-” Hermann looked at Newt, expression pleading, as the words caught in his throat. 

“I don’t understand how you were with someone for years _..._ and you never even mentioned them _once_ in our letters. I thought we were closer than that,” Newt looked down to the rain-slick street below, adding with a small disconsolate smile, “Guess I was wrong.” 

Hermann followed his gaze, at a loss for words. He could not bear to tell Newton the truth he had buried for so long under these circumstances. Not now, not here in a dingy, dirty Bone Slums dive bar. He owed Newton an explanation more than ever, but tonight could not be that night. 

He drew in a breath. “Newton, it’s just us now...” 

Newt’s hurt seemed to dissipate instantly to be replaced by pure shock. “What...?” he leaned heavily against the balcony, gripping the railing tightly with his hand. 

“Everyone except for us just lost their jobs...” 

The shorter man looked dazed. “Everyone... but us...?” 

Hermann nodded solemnly. 

Newt looked out into the night rain. The sounds of honking horns, random shouts and the pattering of droplets on the pavement echoed up around them. A group of kaiju cultists passed below like silent shadows in the chaos, sheltering their candles from the downpour. 

He looked up and then to Hermann, cocking his head in question. “Wait, I haven’t told anyone what my email said. How did you know I was being kept on?” 

Hermann’s expression softened. “There was never a doubt in my mind. If the PPDC was going to retain _anyone_ , it would be you. You’re the world’s leading Xenobiologist and you’re the most brilliant of any of us,” he said, adding with a small grin, “even if you are remarkably belligerent when you’re drunk.” 

Newton’s eyes searched Hermann’s for a moment before he smirked faintly and said, “So, all the cool people are getting laid off and I’m going to be stuck with _you?_ That’s really fucked up, dude.” 

He suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Hermann and clutched him tightly. Hermann froze in shock. Newton’s head was resting on his collarbone and the top of his messy hair tickled the bottom of Hermann's nose. He smelled like sweat, wet leather, alcohol and rain. Hermann slowly put his arms around his lab mate and held him there. He could feel Newt’s smaller body shudder slightly with every exhalation. Hermann squeezed his eyes shut. The downpour thundered relentlessly on the shabby, leaking balcony roof above them. Newt clung to him fiercely before finally letting go. 

He looked up at Hermann and said in a low voice. “I guess we’d better get back inside to help the team get shit-faced, huh?” 

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Hermann nodded wearily. 

“Bullshit, you weren’t gonna say ‘shit-faced’, dude,” Newt said over his shoulder as he held open the door. 

“Well, the sentiment was certainly there,” Hermann sighed. 

When they rejoined the group inside, there were several additional empty shot glasses at their dingy table and the illustrious persons formerly known as the K-Sci Division were in various states of drunken disarray. 

As they approached, Chris jumped up and flung her arms around Newt with a slurred, “Li’l buddy!!” 

“Newtito,” Kay huffed with her arms crossed in front of her. “So glad you’re not dead in a Bone Slums back alley. Maybe give us a heads-up next time you run off?”

“You guys,” Newt said self-consciously. “Sorry I was AWOL for the conversation. This is so fucked up.” 

Chris burst into tears, still hugging Newt and put her head on his shoulder. “Goddammit, I need more shots... and maybe male strippers.”

“As much as I’d have no problem getting right up on this table and showing off my sweet tats and Godzilla briefs, I’m pretty sure they’d kick us out,” Newt smirked. “But shots I can hook you up with.” 

Chris sniffled a bit. “Aw, Newt, you’d dance on a bar table and take your clothes off for my amusement? You’re a good friend. But yeah, just the shots would be good.” 

“Gimme a sec,” he was gone and back again in a flash with ten bright blue glasses. 

“The house special, ‘Kaiju Blue.’ I figured it was suitably inappropriate,” Newt distributed the unnaturally colored tiny beverages. “Bottoms up, science bitches!” 

Everyone downed their shot except Hermann. Newt cast an unimpressed sideways glance at him. “Science bitch means you too, dude,” he said, words beginning to slur together. “I happen to know from experience you can hold your liquor, so drink up.”

Hermann sighed and drank the two shots in rapid succession to the inebriated cheers of his soon-to-be-former lab mates. The liquid was positively vile. He made a face and looked back to Newt who had an impressed expression painted across his features that he was clearly trying to hide. 

Hermann always strived to maintain a level of situational awareness that prevented him from losing his wits entirely, especially in an environment such as this. However, despite the fact that their group had become boisterous, bordering on problematically obnoxious, they did not appear to be attracting too much unwanted attention. The advantage, perhaps, of drinking in a dive bar. 

At a certain point, and an unknown number of ‘Kaiju Blue’ shots later, Kay, Chris and Newton were on the dance floor, Kay and Chris swaying rhythmically to the music as Newt flailed around in exaggerated motions. He kept drunkenly moving to pull his shirt up and off, the bright colors of his inked stomach illuminating strangely under the cheap strobe lights, but Kay kept batting his hands away from his clothing in an attempt to keep him fully shod. 

He persisted and finally, Kay grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the table. “He’s misbehaving and I'm banishing him from the dance floor,” she said, gently half-throwing him into the booth next to Hermann. 

Within seconds, the smaller man had slumped towards him, his head resting on Hermann’s shoulder and he nodded off almost immediately. 

With a huge sigh, Chris collapsed into the booth on Hermann’s other side and took her feet out of her heels, flexing her toes a little in relief. 

“So, you two are all that stand between us and certain destruction, huh? Humanity’s last line of defense.” She reached forward and ruffled Newt’s hair. He twitched slightly and started to drool. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Hermann said quietly. 

“Well, we’re all fucked.” 

They both burst out laughing, releasing the tension of this nightmare of a day in an eruption of catharsis. There was no doubt that Chris was often abrasive, but beneath that exterior Hermann appreciated her frankness and intellect. He realized with somber acuteness how much he was going to miss this team. 

“I mean, I know there are a couple K-Sci folks getting kept on in Sydney and L.A., presumably so that they don’t lose the entire goddamn department if one of the Shatterdomes gets taken out in an attack,” Chris said in an ominous observation that Hermann had no doubt was the reason behind the decision. “But let’s face it...” she continued. “Team Hong Kong was obviously the best.” 

“You’re bloody well right about that,” Hermann affirmed and Chris gave him a wide grin. 

She watched Newton’s dozing face for a moment, smiling fondly before reaching out to squeeze Hermann’s shoulder gently.

“Keep him out of trouble, yeah?” Chris looked at him earnestly. 

He nodded slowly and repositioned his arm around Newt’s smaller frame. “I shall certainly try.” 

When finally it was time to go, Hermann nudged his lab partner lightly to bring him out of his semi-conscious state. Newt blinked and looked around in a daze before his unfocused eyes settled on Hermann’s shirt and he furrowed his brow in consternation. 

“Dude, gross. You’ve got drool on your shoulder.” 

Hermann rolled his eyes but took it upon himself to make sure that Newt didn’t tumble down the flight of stairs between the bar entrance and the street level. For as much as the man was a whirlwind when sober, he was surprisingly malleable when drunk.

The group shared two cabs back to the Shatterdome. 

Hermann led Newton down the passageway to his colleague's room to ensure that he actually made it as far as his bed. When they had gone to karaoke what felt like ages ago with Nolan and Natalie, he had left the man to his own devices. That had been fun, drunk yet still somewhat coherent Newt. But tonight, his colleague had gone above his limits. Hermann wanted to make sure he got safely into bed with a glass of water at the very least. 

He entered the room with the shorter man clinging to him to stay upright. It was the first time Hermann had ever crossed the threshold, despite his intimacy with the outside steps. The layout was identical to his, but Newton’s personality was apparent in every corner of the space and Hermann doubtlessly could have guessed a large portion of the content accurately. 

A huge Godzilla poster hung framed over his bed. On the adjacent wall was a giant bulletin board covered in band paraphernalia; pins, postcards, stickers and small items of merchandise. The Sex Pistols, Iggy Pop & The Stooges, Depeche Mode, The Buzzcocks, The Damned, Tears For Fears, The Clash, Devours, Joy Division, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Ramones, The Cure (Hermann noted this one with a private smile), Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Bad Religion, Billy Idol; all of which he’d become intimately aware of from Newt's lab playlist. There was also a massive assortment of heavy metal bands but Hermann would have needed more than a passing glance to decipher the ornate logo fonts. 

An extensive collection of comics and movies (more than a few of them on VHS) along with classic video game consoles and games were arranged reverently on various shelves and surfaces. Next to his Universal Monsters box set, he had a series of figurines of all the classic monsters as well as a number of Godzilla figures on careful display. There were predictably stacks upon stacks of books; including an impressive array of academic publications; well-worn biological encyclopedias and reference materials. In the corner was a couch covered in numerous skull-themed pillows of various shapes and sizes and set up in front was Newt’s keyboard. Hermann had imagined him perched behind it so many times that it felt almost bizarre to actually see it. It was definitely the same one that he’d had during his Berlin concert.

He led Newton laboriously over to the unmade bed and the shorter man fell heavily onto it. Hermann undid Newt’s shoes for him as his colleague muttered something unintelligible. 

“Do you feel alright, Newton?” Hermann grabbed a X-files mug from the small pantry, filled it with water and set it on the bedside table. 

“M’fine,” Newt mumbled and began to strip out of his rain-damp clothing. Hermann tried to avert his eyes, but Newt had somehow wiggled out of his pants before he could react. He dumped his jacket on the floor but didn’t bother with his shirt and burrowed into the plush, black comforter on his bed and almost instantly began to snore.

Hermann tucked the blanket up around him. That’s when it caught his eye; a box sitting on its own on top of Newt’s desk with a label that read simply ‘LETTERS.’ Hermann’s chest felt tight for a moment with a budding curiosity. He had kept every single missive that Newt had ever sent him, and while it was likely that Newt had done the same, he could not be sure. It would not have been unreasonable after Berlin for Newt to have discarded them. He was seized with an impulse to cross the room and quietly open the box and reaffirm his presumption, but this would be an unforgivable breach of Newt’s privacy. He refocused his energy back onto his gently snoring colleague.

Hermann carefully removed Newt’s glasses, folded them and set them down on the bedside table. He hesitated a moment before smoothing Newt’s hair off of his face. 

“You weren’t joking back at the bar,” he whispered with a chuckle, “you really were wearing Godzilla undergarments.”

***

The final two weeks of the five member Kaiju Science team passed in a blur.

Alex, Kay and Chris tried to get as much work done as possible while attempting to pack and leave coherent handover notes. Hermann could tell they were trying to stay positive, but it was strained. For the past four years, they had given their lives to the organization and now everything was about to change. For his part, it was overwhelming to think about what the workload would be without them. They already put in long hours and frequently supplemented on weekends. 

Hermann worried about Newton as well, who already tended to work himself to the point of burnout. He was certain these new circumstances would not improve his lab mate’s disposition in that regard.

On the final K-Sci Friday pizza night, they all assembled in the mess hall. Hermann had wondered if it would become a bit of a drunken scene like their night out had been, but the mood was surprisingly laid back, if not a little somber. Mostly they reminisced about their time together, oscillating constantly between lighthearted and sullen. They stayed well beyond their usual time; it was clear nobody wanted the night to end. 

The next morning, the group assembled in the lab at 8:00am as instructed. Marshal Pentecost made an appearance to thank Dr. Alex Chen, Dr. Kay Garcia and Dr. Christina Lamont for their exemplary service and passed each of them a small token of recognition, shaking each of their hands in turn. 

Newt and Hermann stood looking on wordlessly as their now former colleagues gathered their affairs and wheeled their luggage to the outside lot.

The transport came to pick up the three scientists promptly at 9:00am. They delayed as much as possible, chatting together and trying to will away the inevitable. 

Eventually Alex was the first to turn to go. He gave Newt and Hermann each a firm handshake and nodded with a sad smile. Kay followed after him, giving each of them a hug and making sure they had her personal contact details before she stepped onto the platform. 

Chris sighed heavily and gave Hermann a huge bear hug, squeezing him far too tightly. When she pulled back there were tears in her eyes.

She turned to Newt who was staring down at his shoes, eyebrows furrowed. His hand shot up under his glasses for a moment, then a second time, then he was covering both his eyes with his hands. 

“Hey, little buddy,” Chris grabbed Newt by the shoulders and waited for him to look up at her. “You and Hermann have got this. I know you do.” 

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and lifted him up off the ground, laughing through her tears. 

Newton started laughing too, his distress turning briefly to amused indignation. “Put me the hell down, man!”

She set him back on the ground and gave him a pat on the back. “Oh, and try not to kill each other until _after_ you’ve averted the apocalypse, okay?” She winked and turned to get onto the shuttle.

The three of them assembled themselves in their seats and waved, as the transport began to pull away. Drs. Newton Geiszler and Hermann Gottlieb stood motionless and watched the shuttle drive to the end of the lot, turn at the exit and vanish from sight.

Neither spoke a word for the stretch of time that followed. 

Finally, Newt turned to Hermann with red-rimmed eyes and said slowly, “I guess... we should get back to the lab.” 

Hermann cleared his throat and shifted his weight onto his cane. “Actually, Newton, I don’t know about you, but I’m rather hungry. And I don’t think we’d get much done to be frank. Why don’t we get some breakfast first?” 

“Yeah... yeah... honestly, I couldn’t eat much last night so I’m starving,” Newt said, still looking at the end of the lot where the shuttle had vanished. He sniffled loudly. “Mess hall then?” 

“I think we both could benefit a change of scenery,” Hermann said. “I found a place in town a little while ago that does all your favorites. Why don’t we go there instead?”

Newton’s mouth went slack for a moment before he ventured, “You mean, you’re gonna treat me to breakfast?” 

“I never said I was going to treat you,” Hermann sputtered. “You have your own money.” 

Newt’s shoulders slumped in a way that made Hermann acquiesce instantly. He sighed but began walking towards the stop for the shuttle into town. Newton held back a moment, uncertain. Hermann turned with a hand on his hip. 

“Well, come on then. Do you want me to buy you breakfast or not?” 

*** 

Initially the lab did not feel particularly different. They had worked many Saturdays just the two of them during the Milking Machine project, so the change did not immediately feel drastic. However, as the days passed, their colleagues' absence seemed to concretize more and more. This was not a temporary arrangement. Their lab mates were not coming back. 

There were countless tiny adjustments that had to be made to compensate, both personally and professionally. The workload had kept the five of them busy; it threatened to overwhelm the two of them. Sometimes, Newt would stare into the middle distance and remark how much he missed everyone. Although Hermann did not vocalize it as readily, he found himself often thinking the same. 

Kay had left them the music roster speaker, but they struggled with whether or not to replicate their departed co-worker's playlists. In the end, they decided to add a smattering of some of their Chris, Kay and Alex song favorites to the endless loop. 

On the Friday evening at the end of the first week, Newt packed up his samples and slumped heavily onto the couch. 

“Is every week going to be like this? Because I seriously need every week to be the _opposite_ of this,” he took his glasses off and rubbed roughly at his eyes, exhaustion bare under the buzzing glare of the overhead lights. 

Hermann stood around hesitantly, shifting his weight as much as he could off his aching leg. Normally the team would be making plans to assemble for their Friday night ritual, but now that it was only the two of them, it was not exactly clear what the way forward would be. 

“So, er...” he started uncertainly, “do you have any plans for-” 

“Wanna grab pizza and beers?” Newt said quickly before Hermann could finish his thought. “I was thinking we should probably keep the tradition alive.” 

Hermann heaved a brisk sigh of relief. He had been unsure if the social dynamic shift after the departure of the rest of the team would spell ruin for an engagement he’d not only grown accustomed to, but found himself quite anticipating. His colleague seemed to be on the same page. But first he had to clear the air on a matter of importance. 

“Newton, I have a confession to make,” Hermann said hesitantly. 

“Okay?” Newt cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him. 

“I’m not... overly fond of pizza.” 

“You’re serious?” Newton looked at him incredulously. “We’ve been eating pizza together every damn week for almost four years and you don’t even like it?!” 

“Well, everyone else seemed so enthusiastic so I went along with it at first... and then I didn’t want to suggest breaking tradition,” Hermann stated defensively. 

“It’s just! That is! The most! Hermann thing I’ve ever heard!” Newt yelled in punctuated sections. Seeing his lab mate’s reaction made Hermann realize that it _was_ honestly a bit absurd that he’d never once suggested an alternative. He began to chuckle, which apparently gave Newton permission to do the same. Soon they were both doubled over in a fit of exhaustion riddled delirium tinged laughter. 

Well, it _had_ been a rather long and stupid week. 

As Hermann regained his composure, he shook his head and said, “Alright, you’ve made your point. Why don’t we order from a different place then? We could start our own tradition...” 

“Yeah, okay! It’s a brave new world I guess,” Newt said, running a hand through his hair. “What do you feel like?” 

“I’m quite open to suggestions,” Hermann responded ambiguously. 

“Nuh-uh, Dr. Long-Suffering-Pizza-Hater. _You_ pick,” Newt was still snickering slightly. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking about sushi lately,” Hermann offered.

“Let’s do it, I could totally go for sushi,” Newt rifled around in his desk drawer and dug out a crumpled and stained take-out menu. They looked it over and Newt opened up an app on his phone and placed the order. 

“When they’re almost here, I’ll get a notification and run out and grab it,” he said before faltering. “There’s only two of us, so we don’t have to go to the mess hall. We could just go to my room and hang out... if you want.” 

Honestly, this was preferable. After the week they’d had, Hermann wasn’t sure that he could handle dealing with anyone else even in passing at this point. Plus, the refectory would serve as a glum reminder of their departed colleagues. He indicated as much and Newt categorically agreed. 

“Right there with ya, dude. Okay, well I’ll head back to my room and you can come by whenever you want. Our food will be here in about forty minutes looks like,” he added, glancing at the app. 

Hermann retreated to his quarters to change his shirt and wash up but he was at Newton’s front door less than fifteen minutes later. He had already knocked before retroactively wondering if perhaps he should have waited a little longer to give his lab partner more time and to not appear overeager. He was relieved when Newt answered the door with a big smile.

He had a towel wrapped around his shoulders (clearly he’d been freshening up) and had removed his usual button up shirt revealing a tight, white undershirt. The stark fabric contrasted brilliantly with his tattoos. He stepped aside and let Hermann come in. 

“I was just changing, gimme a sec,” he said as he pulled the tank top off and turned to grab a shirt. 

Hermann saw that Newt’s well-defined back was completely covered in ink. The way his muscles moved beneath the swirling colors was captivating. Newt circled back and noticed him staring. 

“Heh, I guess you haven’t really seen all my tattoos before, huh?”

Thinking back, he’d caught a hint of the full spectrum during the decon shower incident, but this was the first time he was able to fully take in the sight. All he had glimpsed that day was a flash of color before averting his eyes almost entirely out of courtesy and only slightly out of a sense of shame of wanting so badly to not avert his eyes. Not to mention that Newt’s tattoos had since expanded.

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” Hermann stated simply.

“I’m planning for pieces on my thighs next time I can get back to Boston.” He spun around to let Hermann see the full extent. 

“You're going to run out of space at some point,” Hermann observed. 

Newton cocked his head with a laugh. “You’re not wrong.” 

He threw on a well-worn Sex Pistols shirt before asking, “Have I ever told you why I got my tattoos?”

Hermann shook his head. They hadn’t really ever spoken about it other than Newt telling him his plans for his chest piece but the thought process behind his ink had not come up prior. 

“Three reasons. One, to keep me focused. I always figured I’d do both science stuff and music too. That was the plan. But after K-day and the Jaeger Academy, I felt like I couldn’t justify doing the band thing like I wanted. That’s why we had to go on hiatus. Anyway, these tattoos remind me every day that I’ve gotta stay focused. That it doesn’t really matter what I _want_ to do, this is what I _have_ to do.” 

Hermann had always assumed that Newt had gotten the tattoos to be controversial. He supposed that was also likely a part of it, but it was far from the entire reason. 

Not for the first time, he felt sad for his lab mate. There was no doubt in his mind that the Black Velvet Rabbits would have steadily gained popularity if circumstances had allowed. 

In contrast, Hermann’s path had always been clear to him. Between his aptitude for mathematics and his family legacy, when he thought about it, his career had been inevitable. Designs on becoming a pilot aside, even if the Breach had never existed, he would have likely had a similar professional trajectory.

But Newton may have balanced his life differently, perhaps equally between science and music. Hermann understood why he had made the choice he had and while there was undoubtedly an incredible exhilaration and pride in shouldering the scientific burden of their work, it was also exhausting and the pressure was immense, leaving time for little else.

“Reason number two, they look fucking _awesome,”_ Newt said with a wide grin as he crossed the room and began to clear a space on the couch for Hermann to sit. He did not elaborate on the third reason and Hermann did not pry.

The keyboard he’d heard Newt play countless times on his surreptitious midnight wanderings was set up on a small stand in front of the couch. Newt moved it to the side of the room. 

Hermann shifted slightly. “Newton, I have to confess something to you. I was walking past your room one night and I heard you playing your keyboard. And I...” he drew in a breath of air, “I stopped to listen for quite some time.” 

“Uh, Hermann?” Newt adjusted his glasses with a chuckle. “I have to ask... that’s your second ‘confession’ in like, twenty minutes and I’m starting to think maybe you don’t actually know what the word means.”

“W-well,” Hermann sputtered. “It wasn’t just that night. It started as wandering by. But eventually it became somewhat of a pattern. It was during a period when I was having considerable trouble sleeping and I found it quite helpful.” 

“Hmm,” Newt furrowed his brow and grinned at him sideways. “Usually I pride myself on keeping guys up at night, not putting them to sleep.” 

Hermann flushed at the comment. He glanced at his colleague who was looking at him intently, dark lashes half-lidding his eyes. His tousled hair looked soft to the touch. Hermann’s gaze travelled down the length of Newton’s body and back up again and he swallowed thickly. 

Newt licked his lips and didn’t break eye contact. “So, why didn’t you just knock?” 

“Sorry?” Hermann was momentarily lost. 

“If you wanted to hear me play... you should have just knocked on my door,” he said, a good deal more serious than his usual tone. 

“Well,” Hermann started. “I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“You wouldn’t have bothered me,” Newt looked thoughtful before cracking a sideways smile. “Okay, correction, you bother me _all the time._ But _that_ wouldn’t have bothered me.” 

He looked down at the floor and then back at Hermann. “So, uh... do you... want to hear me play now? I promised I’d let you hear the new song I wrote with the gang in Boston and I never did afterwards.” 

“Right now?” 

“Or not, if you don’t...” Newton trailed off uncertainly. 

“No! No, I mean, I would love to,” Hermann rapidly amended. 

“Okay, but don’t fall asleep on me,” Newton chuckled as he pulled the keyboard back over to the couch and set himself up behind it.

Hermann watched Newton’s breath rise and fall in his chest. He closed his eyes before opening them slowly and positioned his hands above the keyboard. His fingers struck the keys and Hermann was mesmerized instantly by his movements. He’d watched Newton on stage from the audience at the concert and he’d listened surreptitiously perched on the stairs outside Newt’s room more times than he could count. But now, sitting next to him, he could closely watch the man’s deft fingers move across the instrument. 

The song started soft and slow, higher up in the scale, the tinkling notes melodic and sad sounding. But as he played, he moved octaves lower, the powerful, booming sounds reverberating distinctly, hitting the metal walls and bouncing back. 

The melody began to build in speed and complexity. The muscles in Newton’s arms tensed and flexed and his hands danced powerfully but effortlessly, dexterously contorting and producing precise, masterful sounds. Hermann could feel the vibration of it in his chest, the music swallowing everything else; every other sound, every thought. 

As the tension built in the song, Hermann felt an equal tension in his body. He flushed intensely; helpless as the waves of sound crashed over him. The melody began to drive and mount towards an intense crescendo and Hermann closed his eyes.

He was unceremoniously dragged back to reality when Newt’s phone began to vibrate loudly on the table next to them and the electronic notification clashed with the music discordantly. 

Newt jumped up, startled, knocking his knee hard on the underside of the keyboard as he tried to scoot around it to grab the offending device.

He hopped on one leg awkwardly. “Shit, shit, ow. Uh, guess that’s the sushi. That was _way_ faster than I thought.” He slipped into his boots without lacing them up and started to leave before turning and saying, “Um, I’ll be right back.” 

The door closed and Hermann was alone in the room, sitting in a motionless stupor staring at the instrument. The private concert had been over far too soon.

He looked around at all Newt’s posters and paraphernalia. The man was in some ways a contradiction and in other ways such a consistent representation of himself. He inhaled deeply and breathed out a steadying sigh. 

One thing was clear. Perhaps it had always been clear but he hadn't been ready to fully admit the extent of it. What he felt was beyond infatuation, beyond attraction and beyond the bond which they had repaired over time. It was beyond a love of the man’s mind or his letters or his music. It was the sum total of everything Newton was, a magnificent equation he would never fully solve but would never tire of trying. He couldn’t keep pushing down his feelings like he always had until now. 

He was intensely, irrationally, irreparably in love with Dr. Newton Geiszler. 

Like a dam breaking, the words he had been at a loss to pull into existence began to flow freely in his mind. Tonight, when he got back to his room, he resolved to put pen to paper.

He sat unmoving until Newt returned in a flurry, holding multiple bags and trying to manage the door with his foot. Hermann got up to assist him, taking the bags and setting them down on the desk as Newton kicked off his boots and exclaimed, “I almost forgot, I have a bottle of sake chilling in my mini-fridge if you want to crack it open with the sushi.” 

They organized their food, opened the sake and Newton poured it out in two mugs. 

“Sorry, I don’t have better cups for this, but uh... kampai, dude!” They clunked their mugs together and drank deep. Newt parceled out their order, popped the plastic lid off his sushi and dug in without fanfare. 

Hermann did the same, savoring the first bite of delectable not-pizza before saying in a quiet voice, “Newton, I... I genuinely enjoyed hearing you play.” 

“I’m really...” Newt began to talk with a mouthful of rice, caught himself, swallowed and tried again. “I’m really glad, man. Seriously, I’ll play for you again any time. It was...umm...” 

Hermann had rarely seen his lab mate at a loss for words. “It was, you know, nice to have an audience,” Newt finished lamely. 

“By the way, what’s reason number three?” Hermann asked, picking up the thread of the conversation from before and topping up his colleague’s sake mug. 

“Huh?” Newt looked confused.

“You said there were three reasons you got your tattoos, but you only told me two,” Hermann reminded him. 

“Oh, right! Heh, honestly?” Newt looked uncharacteristically self-conscious. “It’s kinda personal, I’d have to be way drunker than I intend to get tonight before dropping _that_ particular truth bomb.” He peeked into Hermann’s glass and seeing the dwindling quantity, refilled the mug to the top. 

Newt suggested putting on a movie, but they ended up deep in conversation for hours instead. They had spoken for longer stretches of time at work, in a group setting and of course when they were working together Saturdays on Newton’s project but this was the lengthiest period of uninterrupted time they had spoken about personal matters, just the two of them since... well, since their letters, although the medium had been different. 

God, Hermann had _missed_ this. 

It was well after midnight when he noticed Newt trying to stifle a yawn and figured it was best to excuse himself. 

As he stepped down into the hallway, he paused for a moment before turning back. “I like our new tradition.” 

“Me too,” Newt smiled. 

Hermann didn’t hear Newt’s door close until after he’d turned the corner. 

He was back in his quarters minutes later. His earlier revelation had given him a burst of energy, and the lingering elation of the night took him straight over to his desk.

He took out a pen and a stack of paper. He began to write and didn’t stop until it was finished. It was everything he’d avoided admitting to himself, everything he’d never had the courage to tell Newton but finally he felt able to pen it all down. Finishing off the missive, he put it in an envelope and sealed it. He held it in his hand for a moment before setting it down on his desk and sighing with profound relief.

It began the way all his previous letters had.

 _Dearest Dr. Geiszler..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, even though the K-Sci cuts were inevitable, it still made me sad to disband the team. I really enjoyed writing them.
> 
> This chapter had some highs and lows for our boys. Other than their snarky exchange in Chapter Four on orientation day and Hermann dragging Newt to med bay in Chapter Six, this is the first time in a while that Newt and Hermann have had a proper fight and Hermann almost told Newt everything then and there. But it would have been very much the wrong time and place. 
> 
> After that, the distress of losing their team, who I think for the both of them had become a bit of a found family, was a big adjustment. So was reinventing their dynamic and maintaining K-Sci Friday but modifying it to fit their new circumstances. And I also think it took a lot for Hermann to tell Newt about his listening to his music on his doorstep all those nights. Take heart, Hermann… every time you’ve just been honest with Newt, it’s gone well for you.
> 
> And speaking of telling Newt things, Hermann has FINALLY written a letter to explain everything. I think a combination of factors that got him there. The argument at the bar demonstrated that as long as he keeps running from this, he and Newt are always going to have misunderstandings. And he has finally come to terms with the intensity of his feelings which I think maybe Hermann played down to himself to avoid admitting his vulnerability. Now it’s just a matter of how it will actually play out… 
> 
> One last little note… Newt’s room! I don’t know why, but I had so much fun thinking of the kind of stuff he would have. I feel like his personality and interests would be plastered all over the place. Just like in the karaoke chapter, I thought a lot about the kind of artists I think he’d like. There are lots more, but it didn’t feel right to make a massive list, and Hermann doesn’t spend a ton of time looking at the board, so I didn’t put more than I thought he would notice in a glance or two. The only artist on there that might be a bit unknown is Devours (described as “a synth-heavy electronic project that occupies a uniquely experimental, queer niche”) and there is a song of his that I just feel like fits Newt perfectly. Here’s a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKg-bJYNRWw


End file.
